You Need More Wonder In Your Life

A week ago, church communications guru Tim Schraeder wrote a blog post that explored the subject of wonder in the church. His closing question: “When was the last time you left church in awe… not of the production, music, lights, or anything else… but truly left in awe of who God is and what He’s done?”

Now for a girl who likes an experiential, interactive worship service, this question made perfect sense to me. But I know there are others who might question the necessity of a wonder filled experience, especially in a religious setting. Won’t that make us more susceptible to brainwashing? Won’t we be manipulated to react emotionally?

Well, now I have the definitive answer for you. And it comes from Oprah herself.

Pause here for dramatic crowd reaction. Are you shocked? Well, it comes from Oprah somewhat indirectly. I found it in the Favorite Things edition of O Magazine (December 2010).

You can read the fascinating article by David Hochman here, but I’ll sum up by telling you that your need for wonder is now scientifically proven. Mom, believing in Santa is good for you! Dad, standing on mountaintops is practically prescribed! Dan, snuggling newborns makes you a better person!

Hochman describes a university study that asked participants to complete 20 statements that started, “I am . . . ” Divided into two groups, half the participants completed the statements while facing a life-size replica of a Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton. The other half completed their statements while sitting in a hallway.

From the article:

The result: People who could see the awe-inducing T. rex were three times likelier to describe themselves as part of something larger (“I am an organic form,” “I am part of the human species”) than those who completed the questionnaire facing the hallway (“I am a soccer player,” “I am a member of the Tri Delta sorority”). In Keltner’s words, awe shifts a person’s thinking “toward the collective.”

“With awe, it’s not, ‘Wow, that’s a really tall dinosaur,'” he says. “It’s, ‘Wow, there’s something bigger than me.'” And the feeling can become a spur to action;

In other words:

Scientists say it pays to cultivate more wonder in your life, whether by forwarding heart-swelling news stories or hiking the Grand Canyon. That’s because channeling awe not only produces pleasant physiological effects—such as the warm feeling in the chest activated by the vagus nerve—and gives a sense of fulfillment; it “can help a person reflect on how an upsetting event fits into their philosophy of life, or how their personal experience unites them with humanity,” says Michelle Shiota, PhD, an assistant professor of psychology at Arizona State University.

Fortunately, there is no season as awe-inspiring as Christmas. If I’m looking for ways to add more wonder to my life, I don’t have to look far right now. In fact, last week it happened in 5th grade music. Struggling with the words to verse three of “Silent Night,” my students needed help decoding the old-fashioned language. Explaining it to them, I was struck by the beauty myself:

Silent Night, Holy Night

Son of God, Love’s pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

With the dawn of redeeming grace

Jesus, Lord at Thy Birth! Jesus, Lord at Thy Birth!

That songwriter had an idea about how to cultivate wonder. Just imagine looking upon the infant Jesus, the God-head humbled into human flesh, and yet shining on his face was the beginning of all our hopes for salvation fulfilled. There’s a little bit of that in every newborn face, too. Wonder isn’t hard to find. If you need some ideas, check O Magazine’s suggestions here. But I think you know what to do.

Chase wonder this holiday season.


Comfort Zone

Last week I re-read an excerpt from Hannah Whitall Smith’s classic The God of All Comfort. Although my students found the style somewhat repetitive and dull, I was surprised by how deeply Smith’s words resonated with my experience. While my heart was with my sister, Serenity, who was recovering from lung surgery, I found Smith’s challenge to be just what my soul needed. (And I can personally attest to the fact that Serenity was oozing this comfort, despite her physical pain. She’s a star, that girl.)

When in need of comfort, whether because of internal or external circumstances, Smith reminds us that God’s promise is comfort. Every time. I’ve quoted it enough, but I never considered the weight of it: “Blessed are those who mourn for they WILL BE COMFORTED.” Not a suggestion or an idea. Comfort is available.

The in-dwelling Comforter ‘brings to our remembrance’ comforting things concerning our Lord, and, if we believe them, we are comforted by them. A text is brought to our remembrance, perhaps, or the verse of a hymn, or some thought concerning the love of Christ and His tender care for us. If we receive the suggestion in simple faith, we cannot help being comforted.

Our problem, Smith believes, is that we fail to receive that comfort. She describes it as a child who, instead of softening to his mother’s embrace, stiffens his back and refuses to be soothed. I know there have been seasons of trial in my life when I felt an unexplainable peace. So unexplainable, in fact, that I was nervous people might not understand how deeply I was truly suffering if I didn’t complain occasionally or wear a long face. Funny, isn’t it, that I have thought about acting more distraught than I actually was. I couldn’t accept the comfort.

But if we refuse to listen to the voice of our Comforter, and insist instead on listening to the voice of discouragement or despair, no comfort can by any possibility reach our souls.

After reading this scolding from Mrs. Whitall Smith, I felt an intentional shift in my attitude. It didn’t matter that certain issues in my life were completely unsettled and difficult. He offered comfort, and, instead of fighting it, I decided to accept.

And it made all the difference.

from A. W. Tozer

Every age has its own characteristics. Right now we are in an age of religious complexity. The simplicity which is in Christ is rarely found among us. In its stead are programs, methods, organizations and a world of nervous activities which occupy time and attention but can never satisfy the longing of the heart. The shallowness of our inner experience, the hollowness of our worship, and that servile imitation of the world which marks our promotional methods all testify that we, in this day, know God only imperfectly, and that the peace of God scarcely at all.

Tozer’s answer to the problems he saw in the spiritual landscape then – one that seems quite familiar to the one I see now – was contained in the title of his book, The Pursuit of God (1948), from which this excerpt comes.

His solution is explored in depth in the book but I’ll short-cut you to one of my favorite lines:

To have found God and still pursue Him is the soul’s paradox of love, scorned indeed by the too-easily-satisfied religionist, but justified in happy experience by the children of the burning heart.

I’m interested in what this looks like in my life and in yours.

How Do You Fight?

As my sister, Serenity, faces a recurrence of cancer, I think we’re all given a valuable reminder that we really have no promises in this life except the one that says, “I’ll never leave you.” And even Jesus didn’t get that promise, so it’s no small thing.

Yet, when the inevitable happens – because at some point tragedy and trial will touch us all – what do we do? How do we, as Paul encouraged us, “fight the good fight”?

In one brave example, our friend Widney Woman is using her good dishes – and not just on holidays! She is even declaring today National Use the Good Dishes Day!

Serenity herself advocates this response and offers some thoughts of her own, including watching movies she loves more than once and hugging her children for no reason.

In our corner of the world, Dan and I registered for Ben Arment’s Dream Year Weekend in Nashville this January. I don’t know of a man with more pure musical talent than my husband; too often we hear live music or televised specials or radio singles and he says, “I could have done that.” And while many of us dream of such a thing, for him it is really true. He does do it – every Sunday, several concerts a year, and for various special events. But by the time he figured out how good he was, we were rather settled into our four-kids-and-a-dog routine and didn’t quite know what to do about it.

After meeting Ben and seeing the dreams he has helped bring to fruition in other people (this year’s Dream Year participants), we are thrilled about the opportunity to explore what it might take to make Dan’s dreams a reality. There is no getting around the fact that it will be lots of work, but it is nice to have some expert guidance to keep you from exhausting yourself in the wrong directions. That’s the idea behind the Dream Year weekend: analyze the dream, give it a name, and see what stands against it. (Note that applications are being accepted through the end of this week for the whole Dream Year program. If you are ready to move on your dream today, consider this worthwhile investment.)

Knowing it would mean time off from work and, as a bigger inconvenience, might rock our routine lifestyle, we looked at one another and knew it was time to act. We have no promises for how long we have each other, how long we have our health, how long we have anything. It is time to do. So we took the little faith we had and registered for this conference as an outward sign of our inward decision to live life more intentionally.

So, besides my prayers for Serenity’s healing, these are my thoughts. What will we do in defiance of life’s uncertainties?

If I Could, I Would . . .

This morning Dan and I hosted chapel in our home for the Bible college students. We sang some of our favorite songs together and then played a gift-giving game. Each student drew the name of another student and then imagined what gift they would give to one another if money was no consideration. I was pleased with how thoughtful and creative they were and it made me want to play the same game with you. So, here you go.

If I had an unlimited source of funding, today I would buy you:

1. This ring from CRED Jewelry: “This stunning engagement ring is set with 48 Canadian ethical diamonds, surrounding a fine 7mm by 5mm Oval Ceylon Sapphire weighing just under 1ct. Made with 18ct Oro Verdeâ„¢ Eco Fair Trade White Gold. Designed by Annabel Panes.” Fair trade jewelry means the stones and metals are all traceable to their sources; you can be assured that the people who work hard to mine these materials earn a fair living under good conditions. Hopefully wearing it will remind you of the Rare Rock that you are! (Feel free to choose one of their other gorgeous selections in exchange if this one is not your style!)

2. An orchestra. I had the privilege of rehearsing Christmas carols (some of my favorite songs in the world) with the accompaniment of the Kirksville Community Orchestra last night. I think I could feel the wind from their bows at my back when we hit the really powerful parts. I may never want to sing without one again, and I’m quite sure that having one would make everyday better.

3. Work you love. Some of the students “bought” each other art studios and urban youth centers. I would buy you a business, a space, or the equipment you need to do work that you love. Everyday. I believe work is important, so I won’t buy you a vacation, but I think you should love your work if at all possible. We can fill in your particular details later.

What would be on your list for someone else today? (Or how would you like me to make out that last gift if it was going directly to you?) I know most of my readers would put “cure for cancer” at the top of that list, but for this game it has to be something you can BUY! (It’s my game, you have to play by the rules!)

Happy Veteran’s Day

To my Grandpa Regular.

Over the years, I’ve heard my maternal grandfather called by many names. His given name is Clifford. My Mom has always called him Daddy, even as a grown up woman. The large extended family and the co-workers of 30+ years called him Pap or Pappy. A neighbor family he took under his wing when their own father and grandfather died too young calls him Pee Wee (I think that was also a nickname from childhood).

The younger set of grandchildren call him Grandpa On the Farm because of the many hours they would spend helping him feed his small herd of cows or playing in the fenced in pastures behind his house.

The great-grandchildren call him Grandpa Boo because he taught them to play Peek-a-Boo.

At church, where he reads Scripture from a big black Bible before the preacher’s message, they call him Brother Clifford.

And I’m sure there are more. Several months ago he told me stories I’d never heard about how during high school he would get up at 4 a.m. every morning to make sorghum molasses. Each customer wanted a different consistency, so he had to cook it precisely according to each order. Kind of like his names.

When he was in the Army, it was as a clerk who stayed stateside. (They must have called him Private Grubbs.) But coming from rural Missouri, his post on the East Coast might as well have been Asia. The black and white photos Grandma has hanging on the wall in her paneled hallway show a trim and dapper fellow. Next to the pictures is a satin wall hanging that says Mother in pale blue calligraphy that always reminds me for some reason of how young he must have been when he sent it back home as a gift. Those who live near him now know he is not one to miss many basketball games at their local school gymnasium, from 5th grade through varsity. For years he has spent hours of the Homecoming weekend frying hamburgers in the food tent. And that kind of faithfulness, I think, is why I always called him Grandpa Regular. He was the grandpa who defined the word.

Happy Veteran’s Day to Grandpa and all the other Veterans!


Sunday’s Music on Monday

I’ve just been loving this song lately. (And I’ve been thinking about how much music shapes my attitudes and emotions, but I’ll leave that for another post. In that post I’ll probably also write about why it matters whether or not my emotions are involved in my worship music. Because it does and I’ve never been more certain of that. But that’s another post.)

From the Beautiful Exchange album from Hillsong, this is the title track. (This particular video has a few mix-ups in the lyrics – it isn’t officially sanctioned, obviously.) My favorite line: “When only love could break these chains/ You gave your life in a beautiful exchange.” Seriously, when would it be appropriate for your emotions to NOT be involved when singing that lyric? (Another post, White.)