Four Degrees of Wonder

Wondering about Wonder

I was recently wondering about ‘wonder’. We had experienced a Christmas season with three diverse and delightful occasions when wonder overwhelmed us, and it set me thinking.

During December my husband, David, and I were reading each morning through the story of the Incarnation, that unrivalled account of promises and prophecies into their fulfillment in the coming of Jesus. As we read, pondered, prayed and put ourselves into this most magnificent of stories, tears flowed – the of wonder, of awe, of deep gratitude, of worship.
It had been a while since I had felt this undone, and so I began to wonder about ‘wonder’ and found “the Lord caused his wonders to be remembered.” (Ps. 111:4)

I began to recall (often in the depths of night) many past occasions when wonder overcame me. I remembered encountering the Lord through Scriptural insights, times when creation spoke deeply to me of him and stories others have told me. I revisited them with tears, often finding it hard to sleep. Waves of wonder seemed to wash over me. I felt I should record these to honour his grace and goodness.

After a while I realised there are different degrees or dimensions of wonder:
1. The wonder of curiosity - Being intrigued, being drawn into exploration, like Moses seeing a flaming bush which is not being burnt up and being drawn toward it (Exodus 3:2-3).
2. The wonder of delight - A surprise, a gift, a startling discovery or sudden awareness, often through something incredibly beautiful or exhilarating. An unexpected ‘wow’ moment.
3. The wonder of his tender presence - You just know he is there with you. We experienced this while exploring the scriptures day after day during Advent. There was a sense of our hearts melting inside, and our eyes leaking outside!
4. The wonder of awe - Through an immediate encounter with God that leaves us open-mouthed and often speechless. Sometimes trembling or shaking or crying happens as something very profound occurs to us.

Then I began to ask questions about how wonder comes to us. Is it simply an occasional, startling gift? Can we walk into wonder, or do we simply wait for it to come to us? Can natural wonder lead us into true worship? Do we often settle for pseudo wonder, brief excitements, or shadows of true spiritual glory? Can we rekindle wonder once it is lost? I began to feel curiosity rising up in me…

Wide-eyed wonder
As I grew up prayer was always with a bowed head, out of reverence, and with closed eyes so there were no distractions. I had no idea that I could pray with my eyes open. I was well into adulthood before I discovered that talking to the Lord ‘wide-eyed’ could lead to profound times of wonder and awe. Let me tell you about the first time I realized I could pray like this.
In my middle years I felt burned out and exhausted. I could barely function. I wondered whether I would ever be ‘normal’ again. For a couple of years I had worked in two part-time roles, plus doing some study. It seemed feasible time wise, but it was far too demanding on my sense of well-being and equilibrium. I realized eventually that I was operating out of an old motto instilled in me that I must never let people down, and always do what I had promised them. This, plus unresolved emotional pain led to this difficult experience where I had to let go my two roles. I felt as if life as I had known it was dying.

In order to keep my mind on the Lord, I decided to try and memorize a passage of scripture and keep speaking it daily over myself. There was a park nearby, so I would go there for an hour to walk and pray this scripture every few days. It was 2 Corinthians 4:6-12…

I was aware I was a ‘jar of clay’, a broken vessel, but also that I had received this ‘glory’ of the revelation of Christ in earlier years, and that anything good in my life came from him. But I was asking the Lord what it meant that “…death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.” (v12)

The Lord answered my question that day. And he did it through a tree.
The park was on the slope of a hill and paths wound down, around and up again. There were lovely trees and shrubs, some preparing for winter, and plots with flowers. On level areas there were seats to rest and enjoy the beauty. I was walking on a path that had a gentle upward gradient, and had my eyes down to make sure I did not stumble on the uneven ground. Just as I turned a corner there it was. I looked up to see a golden tree, with many of its yellow leaves all over the ground around it. It was a stunning sight! My response was to abruptly stop and say ‘Wow! How glorious.’

Immediately words came into my mind, in a gentle tone, Dying is beautiful. I knew it was the Lord speaking! I stood there, rooted to the spot for some minutes, tears streaming down my face, doubled over with such a sense of wonder that he would say that to me. I could only gasp out, ‘Oh, Lord!’ over and over.
I had the answer to my question, and it was so reassuring. I should not be ashamed of my present weakness, because he considered it beautiful. Wow! How amazing! These losses were not the end. Death was working in me, but I now had confidence that the Lord could use this to produce life for others in his good time. I’d had a wide-eyed moment of wonder that changed my perspective immediately. And he used a golden tree.