Why I’m Rediscovering Wonder

The blizzards of 1992 in northwestern NJ raged for months. (There was the famous December nor’easter, but many others too). Legendary snow drifts left people housebound. Parents fretted constantly about the threat of the power going out.

Meanwhile, my siblings and I made snow forts. We also piled snow as high as we could and jumped off our second-story deck into the drifts. As soon as we landed, we slid over to the deck steps, climbed up, and jumped again. Jump, slide, climb. We repeated the cycle with the dedication to such a task that only kids can. 

That same year, Hurricane Andrew hit Florida, where my family and I spent every summer. The adults fretted. I wondered why they were always so concerned with electricity. 

I watched the water on the street rise, wondering if it would reach the house. I fantasized about opening the door and being hit by a gust of wind so powerful that it swept my body up. In the fantasy, I never got hurt; it felt more like flying. 

After Hurricane Andrew passed, the water remained. My childhood best friend and I took boogie boards and floated through the ditches and the flooded parts of the lawn like it was the ocean. We pushed and pulled each other for hours. I can only imagine what little critters floated in the ditches with us. It didn’t matter. We had fun that I remember 30 years later.

I’ve been reminiscing about how much I loved “bad” weather lately. Cub knows it’s almost winter and has been asking me if it’s going to snow each morning. This got me thinking: At what point in growing up did we stop seeing dramatic weather as exciting? When did the raw force of the earth become an inconvenience?

The last time I went sledding was in high school, and then it was because it only involved romance. We all looked forward to bad weather in college in the hopes that class would be canceled, but not because we had any desire to go out in it. 

I can’t remember when I lost the wonder about weather, but it hurts that it’s gone.

Or is it?

Is it possible to rediscover wonder?

Cub has taught me that it is. For our children are a heritage from the Lord (Psalms 127). Through them, we remember wonder.

As I watch Cub’s enchantment with the things I once took for granted, pieces of my own heart heal that I didn’t know were broken.

Remember when you learned that no two snowflakes were the same as a kid? Remember the awe of infinite possibility? That’s how I feel about raising a child. We’re raising infinite possibility. Infinite beauty. Infinite blessing. We’re raising a blizzard and a hurricane, but also the light of the world.

Since Cub was born, I relive my own wonder as the world unfolds before him. We delight in in the rain and snow together, not just the sunshine.

What are the ways you plan to experience wonder with your kids as we prepare for the holiday season? Playing in the snow? Baking special winter treats? Taking winter walks in the woods? Please comment below!