The Wonder of a Child
Listen: “Over the Rainbow” by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
As a child, Christmas was always a magical time of year—no school, sledding for hours (back in the days when it snowed on Christmas), and Santa. In my teen years, I became enchanted with the Rocky Mountains. By the time I turned sixteen, I was taking annual trips every year to explore the mountains of Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. I loved hiking, rock climbing, fly fishing, praying, dreaming, journaling, and meditating in the mountains. My annual trips to the mountains became a time to reflect on my life—where I have been and where I was going—but mostly is was a time of awe and wonder. Whether I was taking a nap in the snow at a high mountain lake in Rawah Wilderness or hoping my new tent wouldn’t be shredded by gale-force winds in the Collegiate Peaks, I always sensed a special magical presence in the mountains—a connection with God and childlike wonder. As an adult, I still experience a sense of childlike wonder in nature and riding my bicycle.
G. K. Chesterton was an English writer, philosopher, lay theologian, and literary art critic. In a essay entitled “The Ethics of Elfland,” he pointed out how you can learn the most important things in life from children’s stories (Orthodoxy: The Romance of Faith). Chesterton reflected on five truths contained in most children’s stories: (1) the world does not explain itself, it just exists; (2) wonder and beauty come from someone or something magical; (3) beauty connects to an original design, despite the fact that dragons exist; (4) humility and gratitude are appropriate responses; and (5) all goodness is a treasure.
Children are wired to see the wonder and magic of the world around them. I remember creating a swing with my arms and hands to rotate one of my nephews (two years old at the time) around in circles. He would giggle with all his might and then say, “Do it again.” After twenty minutes I was worn out, but he was ready for more—“Do it again!”
A child’s capacity to watch a cartoon over and over again with the same sense of awe and wonder is amazing. Why do we as adults so easily lose this childlike capacity to enjoy something so utterly spectacular again and again? Maybe there is something eternally childlike hardwired into the universe to which we need to stay connected. Maybe the earth says to the rising sun, “Do it again!” If dogs were purple or grass was blue, would we be more amazed?
Our brains function in a way so that negative emotions stick like glue (in the amygdala) and positive emotions slip away like teflon (See Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence by Rick Hanson). In order to reacquire childlike wonder, we need to actually pause and focus on something that is good, lovely, and awe-inspiring for fifteen seconds or more before it affects our experience and mood. Some people do this by keeping a gratitude list, participating in a creative outlet, enjoying nature, or practicing meditating.
In my darkest days (2019), I was drowning in negative emotions. I had to consciously tune my awareness towards wonder, awe, and gratitude. Positive experiences and emotions I once had in abundance were on short supply in 2019. I found my greatest sources of inspiration in nature and people. Nature is a place where I find infinite enchantment. Before I felt called to be a pastor, I thought about a career in biology, forestry, or wildlife. I am endlessly fascinated with the universe, planet earth, and its inhabitants. People’s stories are another favorite source for wonder and inspiration—the stories of love, courage, heartache, defeat, and recovery.
It’s no surprise to me that Jesus said we need to become more like children to enter into the experience of the kingdom of God (Matthew 18:1-6; Mark 10:13-16). Have a blessed Hanukkah and Christmas season.
Shalom
©realfredherron, 2022
