The Joy of Wonder: Teaching Ourselves to Look for God

 

I’ve been preparing for the retreat I’m speaking at in March, and I don’t want to say too much about it, because I know some of the ladies who will attend read the blog, and I don’t want to share too many spoilers. But one of the sessions I prepared took me back to Ann Voskamp’s bestselling book One Thousand Gifts. It’s twelve years old now, if you can believe it, and I still love what she teaches within its pages.

            Looking for God in the everyday is something I feel like we’ve mostly become too busy to do. We rush from one thing to the next and then collapse at the end of the day, wondering where God is and why we haven’t noticed Him lately.

            Perhaps we’re just too busy to look. Perhaps we need to teach ourselves to look for God.

            Perhaps we need to recognize that He is in even the smallest things. It doesn’t have to equate to parting the Red Sea or closing the mouths of hungry lions to involve Him. Bigger doesn’t equal more of God. He’s in everything – and perhaps most often in the smallest things.

            As I write this today, a very gentle and non-threatening snow is falling outside my window. It isn’t lost on me that every flake flitting about in the wind is unique from any other flake that has ever fallen. Isn’t that amazing? The wonder of God in falling snow.

            Several days ago, as I sat in our home office in training for learning how to write grant proposals, I looked up and found SEVEN DEER meandering through the empty retention pond behind the neighbor’s house. I couldn’t stop myself from gasping out loud, even though I was on camera, and I popped up from my seat to take their picture before the last of the daylight slipped away and I couldn’t see them anymore. The wonder of God in sauntering deer.

            We haven’t had much sun this winter, and perhaps that makes me appreciate it more on the days when it does appear. I’ve been in the office, sliding the blinds up early in the morning to capture the bare-from-winter trees silhouetted against the sun spreading its first soft light into the sky. The wonder of God in pink sunrises.

            We are part of a small group here in our new community, and we eagerly look forward to the nights we all gather. It’s all very informal and mostly about conversation, encouragement, and prayer. (And food.) I’m always sad when we have a conflict and can’t attend – which thankfully doesn’t happen often. To have this kind of a group to love and embrace us is a rare gift that hasn’t happened too often in our lives, and we do not take it for granted. The wonder of God in friends and fellowship.

            On and on it goes. He’s there. He’s there in the small things that can become the big things if you take time to notice them. I hope you’ll do it today. I hope you’ll teach yourself to look for God and live in the joy of that wonder!