Advent Visions

December 11:   Wonder

Celeste Dionne Denne sent me an old photo of her cousin June, who is now about 70 years old, meeting Santa for the very first time.  She writes:  "I have always loved this picture, as she sees Christmas through the eyes of a child, filled with awe and wonderment of what was to come.  It stirs those same feelings of old, when I would count down the days to his arrival each night, as I lay in bed.  Now, I have those same feelings of hope, excitement and awe, as I eagerly await the celebration of Christ's coming to us on earth."

Awe and wonder are at the heart of all spirituality.   To walk through the world mindlessly, as if this place and this day were simply insignificant, ordinary things, is the greatest sacrilege.   This moment in time is, for each of us, filled with possibility.   It is colored, choreographed, and designed for just this one moment in eternity, to be grasped and held with gratitude and grace.   The proper response is "awe and wonderment."   We feel it come upon us unbeckoned sometimes.   We stand on a mountain and see the world spread out before us.   We feel the wind in our face as we ride the waves.   We awaken to the first snow falling outside the window.  We watch our bride start down the aisle, overcome by love and joy.   We hold our infant child and know that the world has changed for us.  

But we can practice wonder, too.   We can remember the child who climbed into Santa's lap, or  who saw a lighted Christmas tree, or who raced into a winter wonderland to make a snowman.   We can open ourselves to the possibility that this day, and this life, are not random and inconsequential.   They may be, at heart, a gift from Someone who loves us very much.

Wonder

I should gasp at this,
feel excitement well in me,
when stars dust the sky
on a cold winter night,
and I am here to see.
And firelight and candles
burn, warm and soft,
and there is a hand I love
reaching for mine.
And this incense of balsam
carries me to another time,
where the child I was 
calls me again
to be the child I am.
This is a wonder,
this life, all of it.
So I must take off my shoes
on this holy ground,
and laugh, or bow,
or sing for simple joy
for this most awesome gift.