Can I be in wonder with wonder?

Wonder. It's the realization of how big, intricate, hopeful and lonely this blue gem floating through space really is.

It's driving along the coast of Oregon and watching the whole ocean opening up before you as you try to pull your jaw up. The sound of the waves traveling hundreds of miles just to crash upon the rocks outside the hostel window for it to turn around and do the whole thing over and over again. It's feeling small but safe in an ironic way.

It's looking through a macro lens giving you the ability to identify each of the tiny hairs of a wooly caterpillar that you wouldn't be able to see without it. The black ones standing in stark contrast to the yellow covering most of the creature. It's feeling protective for the weakest around you.

It's marveling at the way a family can take an empty building in a small town not known for hope, and with courage turn it into a spot their community can be proud of. It's feeling grateful for the example.

It's the wind being knocked out of you when a family member shares bad news or as a friend loses their father too early; you have no control over any of it. It's feeling helpless and angry. How could this be?

It's accepting the fact that we are big and small and powerful and powerless. And loving through each step.

May our fascination with technology never put a callous on our ability to wonder. May we always marvel at the harsh beauty of the physical world and the humanity around us. May we always be like a child in wonder discovering the world.

Be In Wonder.