royal beauty bright...” it struck a chord in my heart. When this season is upon us I often have my eyes open for the “wonder”. So many times we miss the“wonder” of the season while caught up in the craziness that has become our culture. I don’t want to be super spiritual here. I know that the Christ-child, who was born of a virgin and was sent from our Father in Heaven, is the ultimate wonder of the season. I will come back to that. But if we are de-sensitized to “wonder” in the ordinary, how will we ever see the star as anything more than a light in the sky?
Last night one of my grandtwins spent the night with me. After dinner we took a drive to look at Christmas lights. This is always one of my traditions during the holidays. I love the lights. I am drawn to the lights. When I was a little girl, my parents were missionaries in Arkansas but our roots were in New York. When the time came to migrate north for Christmas, we would load the car and go to bed for a few hours before getting up and leaving at midnight. We drove the twenty-six hours straight through. We didn’t stop for sleep as my dad could take ten minute catnaps on the shoulder of the road and be good for another 300 miles or more! We barely stopped to eat. My mom would pack sandwich fixings and salads and snacks which we would prepare by the side of the road and then eat while we drove.
The drive through the night is a favorite memory. I anticipated those moments when we would approach another city and see all the lights beckoning. And I thrilled at the random Christmas lights that would show up to shine like a treasure in the long, dark stretches in between. Perhaps this is just one of my little quirks. Or perhaps it has always been that longing in my heart to find the star that leads me “home”. In either case, it is something I hold onto.
So last night the little one and I made the pilgrimage. She is not quite three years old, so I was aware that there was a time limit on the joyous moments. We took a few side streets as we were captivated by the glimmer. But I had a destination. There is a neighborhood not far from my house that goes all out with their decorations. And there is one house in particular that outshines them all. So as we pulled onto that street, I made sure she was on the right side of the car to take it all in. The music, the lights, and the magic. Her words confirmed the story that her eyes had already told. “Nona – that is so-o-o-o cool. I love it!” There is was. The wonder of it all.
It is not just a holiday thing. My moments of wonder come when God has done something powerful on my behalf. And they come in the quiet of the woods as the leaves fall around me. But quite often they come while teaching a child. There is that moment when they “get” a concept for the first time. I saw it at the School of the Arts yesterday when a student caught the concept I was showing him in photography class and was able to take his own picture that portrayed it perfectly. His eyes and his smile expressed what his words could not. What a joy to be a part of that moment. Wonder.
What is wonder? One of the dictionary definitions is“something strange and surprising; a cause of surprise, astonishment, or admiration”. Yes. That’s it. Wonder. If you blink, you will miss the moment. If the shepherds had fallen asleep, they might have missed the star. If they had been caught up in the busyness of the village of Bethlehem, they might not have heard the angels sing. But they were still. They were watching their flocks in the quiet of the moonlit night and something strange and astonishing happened. And they were some of the few who were blessed to be in that moment. They saw the wonder of the babe in the manger.
Last week my family went to “A Journey through Bethlehem” at a local church. We waited over two hours for our turn. Two hours with four small children – after their bedtime. Imagine. We almost gave up and went home a few times. But the older kids wanted to stay. The journey was worth the wait. They were in awe as they walked through all the “scenes” of Bethlehem and to the hillside where they saw the shepherds and the angels. But the moment that brought it “home” was when we came to the manger. The picture at the top of this page tells the story. Just like children visiting the mall think they are seeing the “real” Santa Claus, my grandchildren thought they were seeing the “real” baby Jesus. And time stood still. They forgot that the camel was waiting at the next stop. They forgot how hungry they were. Just for a moment, they were caught up in the wonder of the baby. Like the shepherds of old, they experienced something most of the adults missed as they shuffled on with the crowd that night – they experienced a moment with the Savior. They might not fully realize it right now. But one day I pray they will. I pray that the wonder they felt in that moment will come back like a flood when they truly meet the
Jesus who wants to live in their hearts.
I want to live my life in anticipation. I want to be watchful for what God is doing at all times. I don’t want to miss those times when my grandchildren experience moments of wonder. And I don’t want to miss the wonder myself.