What if We Could Return to Wonder

As I leashed up Cody’s dog, he’d stuff cookies into his pocket. On nice days, we’d walk a nearby trail before getting coffee to go with the cookies. Armed with hot beverages, we drove the country roads east of town – past faded red barns, clumps of sheep, and painted ponies.

Cody, a retired commercial airline pilot, had early-onset Alzheimer’s. My friend, Nancy, couldn’t leave her husband alone, so back in my widow years, I hung out with him once a week. Which allowed Nancy time to run errands, purchase groceries, and keep appointments.

One of the things I enjoyed about being in Cody’s company was his ability to see the world with wonder. 

“Oh, my gosh! Look at the size of that mountain! So beautiful!”

“Wow, did you see those llamas? So cute! So cute!”

“Look at how high he’s soaring! Oh, look, there’s two hawks! Jimeneez!”

I like to think of myself as a noticer, as someone who pays attention to life, to beauty in nature, to the brimming number of things there are to be grateful for.

But Cody surpassed me in so many ways.

One day after hanging out with Cody, I hiked a favorite trail along the river. I’d walked this path a few hundred times. But when was the last time I had paid attention to all the sights and sounds and aromas?

I think when something becomes so familiar, we fail to recognize the amazingness of it.

Inspired by Cody, I saw the river trail through his eyes, capturing photos along the way. Mama duck conducting swimming lessons. The sun’s shafts between trunks of impossibly tall trees. Delicate yellow flowers waving on slender stalks.

Which reminds me of the lyrics to “How Great Thou Art”:

Oh, Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy hands hath made
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou are, how great Thou art.

Spending time with Cody reminded me to be right there in the moment, paying attention and speaking gratitude to the Creator of all this wonder.

Which sounds lovely and easy if life is going well.  

But how much awe and gratitude are expected of us when we’re caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s? When cancer is stealing a loved one? When a job lay-off means the sale of our home?

How vital is it to see the world through the eyes of a child or an Alzheimer’s patient, even in the hard and holy moments?

Speaking from experience, cultivating wonder is critical, no matter our life circumstances.

Because noticing triggers gratitude.

And no, I wasn’t grateful to lose a mother to Alzheimer’s, a husband to cancer, to face widowhood with limited resources. But I was thankful I had them and they had me.

A grateful heart produces joy. And if we want this joy, then perhaps we should nurture awestruck-ness.

This from Psalm 72:18-19

Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel,
who alone works wonders.
And blessed be His glorious name forever;
and may the whole earth be filled with His glory.
Amen and Amen!

What if we …

committed to getting outdoors this week to notice the unique, the beautiful …

stopped to listen and identify the variety of sounds in nature …

thanked God for our ability to get outdoors, for all our senses intact, for this breath in, this breath out?

What if we could take one day—perhaps today—to return to wonder?