I Ask For Wonder

“We strain to renew our capacity for wonder, to shock ourselves into astonishment once again.”

— Shana Alexander

There was one point in my life that all I wanted was salvation.
Sick of my selfish ways, tired of the struggle, and lost in sin, I needed a savior. On a hot July night, I bowed my head and prayed with a grey-haired man with gnarled fingers pointing to the path down the Roman road.

Then I wanted knowledge. I began to buy books — C.S. Lewis, Francis Schaeffer, Josh McDowell, Walter Martin, Ravi Zacharais and other men who could give reason for faith gripped my mind. I loved the challenge and joust, eager to share my headstrong belief.

Photo by D. Rupert

Then I wanted experience. I wanted to see where God was at work. I wanted to talk to the homeless, the drug addict, the lost dogs who had wandered. I sought them out and shared the gospel and hoped for positive return. We opened home and table, wallet and hearts. They often took and walked away, but still I wanted the experience of their lives, broken and yet so fixable. In the meantime, I looked for God to stir my own soul, to awaken me every day.

Then I just wanted to find my way back home. The path that I knew was right was overgrown, neglected by my own disregard. Then abandoned by love, spurned by friends, and forgotten, I wallowed in pity. I had all the salvation, all the knowledge and the experience in the world, but I still had no idea.

Now, I’m home again and there’s one thing I want. I ask for wonder.

My priorities are so different know, because they are so undefined. I want to wake up every morning and be gripped by the awe of the sunrise. I want to hear the birdsong like it’s the first time. I want to lose myself in this deep love that has no beginning and no end. I want to drive on a dusty road with the windows down, the radio up high, a 1/4 tank of gas and not a worry in the world.

I want to revel in the unknown like a traveler in a new land. I want to embrace the mystery like child. I want to draw a question mark with a stubby pencil.

Wonder is what my friend Laura Boggess desires most for her boy, “who will awake under a star-strewn sky — filled with wonder at what God has done.” She talks about the mysterion found in the Greek new testament, those profound mysteries that are meant to be discovered — in due time.

I’m not dropping out. I’ll still pull my tie up to my neck and report to work. I’ll continue to sit through sermons every Sunday, study with passion, participate in small groups and listen to Christian music. I’ll share my faith and do all the duties that I know to be true. But still, I’ll get lost in the wonder of it all and just smile.

Funny, but embracing the uncertainty is the most certain thing a man can do.

Care to comment?