Wonder

I saw something beautiful a couple weeks back that I wanted to share with you.  

Andy and I went to my parent's house for the weekend, including going to church.  The praise band got up and ready to lead music for the second service.  There was a guitar, three singers, a bass, a drummer, and...a four year old boy.  He had his own guitar--not a ukulele, a child-sized guitar--and he was watching very closely so he could strum in time with the guitarist.  While he was strumming along, he'd move his top hand from time to time and you could hear a chord every now and again with the rest of the band.  He started off next to the guitarist, but he made his way over to the bass player and over to the singers, one of which he was related to.  He had a big grin and was so jubilant to be up there.  I wanted to take a picture but a) did not think I could take one that would give the vision justice, b) didn't want to get in position to try and take a good picture in the middle of church, and c) wouldn't put up a picture on the internet of a minor without permission anyway.  

I hope that you can trust me, though, when I tell you it was truly something beautiful.  Here's the thing, though:  I know people that would have been actively upset that he was up there, that the music wasn't just right for "their service."  In fact, when my folks were introduced to this child's parents, they made sure to mention that they could have him stop if it was going to be a problem.  My father is definitely a "let the children come to me" kind of pastor, so he immediately reassured them that this little boy was not only welcome with the praise band but very much encouraged.  So many people could have stomped on that little boy and the joy he had in being part of that group.  

I cannot promise that it meant as much to him now as it will in a few years, but I think understanding that you are wanted and included has a great impact regardless.  That feeling should stay with him, even if playing the guitar doesn't.  

There was another beautiful sight that Sunday as well:  Andy played his accordion and sang a song, which is always lovely, but what was really special about it was the group of kids that came up to inspect his accordion afterwards.  Andy held court over about eight of them, all varying ages and none of which seemed to have seen an accordion in person before.  When Andy let them press a button or pull out the bellows, they were genuinely excited and asked a lot of questions, all of which Andy patiently answered.  A couple of brothers swore that they were going to have their father buy them one, which the father immediately chimed in that they were expensive (the boys weren't concerned for some reason).  

Where do we lose our wonder, that brazen ability to go up and ask questions, and the excitement of having a new experience?  

Sometimes, it's beaten out of us, like if someone were to take the four year old's guitar and tell him that he wasn't allowed to play with the band anymore.  Sometimes, we believe it when people tell us we're not good enough.  Sometimes, we're just too worn down to appreciate the world around us.  

To a child, most everything is new, but there is more to our experiences than novelty.  Truly, it can just be a matter of perspective.  Andy, for example, still has a child-like wonder about many things, and I love him for it.  I ask a lot of questions because I'm genuinely excited to learn something new.  I have known other people that have retained that spark, where they retain that wonder and joy of experience at all ages.  I also have known people that have been dead since eighteen but won't be buried for many years yet.  

How this wonder is lost, there are many ways and many reasons.  A traumatic incident shocked it out of you; it was ultimately stomped-out by either direct antagonism or lack or support; or perhaps there are too many things to worry about in the world to spend the time to encourage that sensation any more, so it fades away.  Reclaim that part of yourself; it used to be a part of you at some time.  Wonder is not only something beautiful to witness in a child, but it is a whole perspective on the world.  Particularly in a time where hopelessness and tragedy is broadcast and omnipresent, keeping open and appreciative of the ordinary beauty around you can become a defense mechanism in and of itself.  That perspective shift can be enough relief and distance to think through the rest of how we need to attack the world from there.  Or it can at least take some of the stress out of the holiday season.  What better time than the holiday season to indulge in the sensation once again?