What is it about growing up that causes us to lose our sense of wonder and delight? Because we do. When was the last time you let yourself be absolutely, giddily delighted?
I think it's really easy for us to get caught up in one of two things:
1. The mundane tread of the everyday, or
2. The busyness of whatever we've deemed the most important, has-to-be-accomplished thing.
Boring and busy. That seems to be the pendulum on which we find ourselves swinging. There is little room to stop and smell the literal roses. And would we even care if we did?
I have a gal pal named Ruth. She's almost three. Ruth is delighted by all kinds of things. Recently, it began to flurry on a Sunday morning as we walked into church. Ruth screeched with joy,
"Rachy IT'S SNOWING! LOOK AT THE SNOW."
Y'all there were literally five and a half snowflakes. But that didn't dampen Ruth's enthusiasm. She was head over heels for those five and half snowflakes. She showed me, she showed her friend Belle, she showed her parents. Everyone needed to know.
Nothing in Ruth's world is mundane. This is probably mostly because she's making new discoveries constantly (having only been around for three years). For those of us who have been around the sun a few more (dozen) times, the world in general can seem a little more...blah.
But my oh my...our little world is anything but blah. Have you ever caught a glimpse of a sunrise so bright pink, it seemed otherworldly? Or stepped out into freshly fallen snow? NOT BLAH.
All too often, though, we miss those things. Because we're not looking or (even worse) because we are looking but we don't care.
A friend of mine sent me this in a text the other day, and it stopped me in my tracks:
Confession of Sin
Family: Eternal God, your Spirit moved on the waters—and there was light, your ﬁrst creation. You delight in your creation. You spread your colors of reds and golds, purples and greens for all to see. But we get caught up in speeding through life, looking for quick and easy answers, intent on accomplishing more, yet somehow enjoying less. Open our eyes to the wonder all around. Spin us around to see and appreciate. Let music touch our hearts and laughter ﬁll our souls. Slow us down enough to marvel at the splendor around us and to offer a prayer of thanksgiving. Stir us to be a community of joy, a people of praise, a center of healing, and a gathering committed to your truth. Amen.
Y'all. Those are the kinds of words that make a heart skip a beat.
What would life be like if we knew how to be THAT delighted, every day? Probably as much fun as Ruth's, honestly.
I think we were made for delight. All of creation is capable of stirring our affections and pointing us towards the Creator himself, if we will allow ourselves the time to notice it.
God created this universe meticulously and tenderly. He made it very beautiful just because he could. And he totally delights in it, I am positive. He kept saying over and over again, "Yep, THIS IS GOOD U GUYS."
Then he gave us the same love for beauty that he has, so we could see his creation and stand in awe of it. So that music could make our eyes get dusty and sunsets could make us laugh with joy.
I'm saying this to me as much as I'm saying it to you: don't miss it. Don't miss the gift of being delighted. Read the words of that confession over and over: Wonder. Splendor. Joy. It's all right there. When we're paying attention, there is no end of marveling.
Here's to delight. Here's to spinning around (like Julie Andrews on an Austrian hillside) and learning to soak up the splendor of life.