This is a story about finding wonder, and losing it, and finding it again.
This story takes place in an unlikely place (a golf course) at an unlikely time (mid-morning on a Monday). It was early spring, and a neighbor had just tipped me off that the course is closed on Monday, and the grounds crew looks the other way if you decide to run on those beautiful cart paths, and so run I did. And it was cold and bare, the sky was a wet gray, and it was beautiful. Nature and silence together make my soul reset. And I ran to the back of the course and stood next to a still pond and I remembered that the Good Shepherd told me he restores my soul. I raised my hands to touch the sky and was reminded that I am very small, and God is very big, and the silence and the beauty remind me to never lose the wonder. My soul took a deep, cleansing breath, and found herself again.
And so I ran back into my busy life, the life full of noise, and I vowed to never miss another Monday. Monday would become my soul-Sabbath run, my weekly reset. Every Monday the golf course beckons with quiet and beauty and it’s just mere steps from my door so this will absolutely be my place of wonder! I will be restored each Monday morning! Rain or shine, my sanctuary awaits! I had found wonder and I would not lose it again.
And then the next Monday came, and someone wanted to have coffee.
A Monday–and one of my kids stayed home sick.
Monday–I needed to run an errand that morning, and &!&* forgot their lunch and who took my hairbrush?! and sign the taxes and AND AND.
And Monday, in front of the computer because the emails keep coming.
And then it was dark and cold, as winter tried to get its last licks before being beaten by Spring. And Monday after Monday passed me, and I remembered my vow, and I was sad and ashamed that I couldn’t keep it. Even when there was time on a Monday, the work of lacing on my shoes just seemed too much. My soul was so tired she couldn’t even ask for another breath, and the call of beauty got softer, and seemed so far away. Maybe it was never as good as I remembered it, anyway, I thought, as I hustled again from one appointment to the next, one kid drop off to the next, one day to the next.
This Monday I remembered again, and it was raining, and one of the kids stayed home, again.
And I felt defeated and burdened and worn and old.
But wonder is gentle but tenacious and sometimes she makes arrangements for you. So I had an appointment cancelled in the afternoon, and the rain stopped, and the sun shined down so brightly that it couldn’t be ignored. Wonder waved her arms in my face and told my soul to wake up and get out. And with a forty minute window of time, I put on the shoes and found my way back to the path.
And my body felt tired and I was breathing erratically, and I had a weird pain in my right shoulder blade and a cramp on my left side, but I got to this spot and I forgot.
I forgot completely about myself. I forgot about my concerns for next week, my worries about the one child. I forgot about the way I scheme for next year and the next decade, I forgot to clamor in front of the Creator with all my needs. I forgot everything because wonder takes up all the space in your soul. Wonder says remember you are a child. Wonder says the one who made this made you. Wonder sings a song of delight, of small and glorious living with a big and spectacular God. And I reached my hands to the sky, I remembered I am small and He is big, and I ran back home knowing that He does, in fact, restore my soul. I remembered that He is patient and kind and waiting, and that no matter how many Mondays I miss, He won’t stop missing me, He won’t give up on sending me wonder invitations.
Have you found your wonder? Have you lost it again? Look for her today, a gentle, tenacious, delightful presence that surprised you with an invitation to forget yourself for a moment–and find your life again.