wonder

Leave Room to Wonder

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

I’ve been thinking about how quickly we like to arrive at conclusions.

We want answers.

Explanations.

Something certain enough to put the question to rest.

And somewhere along the way, I wonder if we begin to lose our curiosity.

We become so concerned with being right that we forget what it feels like to be interested.

To listen without preparing a response.

To ask a question without already knowing what we hope the answer will be.

To encounter something unfamiliar and simply want to understand it.

There’s a certain humility in curiosity.

It acknowledges that there are things we don’t know.

And perhaps there always will be.

I don’t think wisdom is found only in the answers we collect.

Sometimes it’s found in our willingness to keep asking.

I hope I never become so certain of what I know that I stop being curious about what I don’t.

“The heart of the discerning acquires knowledge, for the ears of the wise seek it out.”

— Proverbs 18:15 (NIV)

I Hope I Never Rush Wonder

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

I hope I never become so busy that I stop being impressed by ordinary things.

The way the sky changes just before sunrise.

The sound of a child laughing from another room.

The first deep breath after stepping outside.

The hush that settles over everything just before rain.

I wonder if one of the greatest losses in adulthood isn’t our sense of wonder.

It’s our willingness to slow down long enough to notice it.

We’re always moving toward the next thing.

The next appointment.

The next responsibility.

The next notification.

The next goal.

And somewhere along the way, we become so focused on what’s next that we rush past what’s right in front of us.

But wonder has never liked to be rushed.

It asks us to linger.

To look a little longer.

To listen a little more closely.

To let an ordinary moment become extraordinary simply because we gave it our attention.

Maybe that’s why Jesus so often pointed people toward the ordinary.

Seeds.

Birds.

Lilies.

Children.

He wasn’t just teaching lessons.

He was teaching people to notice.

And I think that’s a lesson I need just as much today.

I hope I never become so familiar with God’s creation that I stop seeing His fingerprints in it.

I hope I never rush wonder.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”
— Psalm 19:1 (NIV)