Quick to Gasp, Swift to Ooh, and Eager to Aah

Clairesy and Cap'n in awe of the rain coming down.

Because cameras are everywhere and computer animation is able to create ever more outlandish worlds, we say with  Solomon, "there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Seemingly, everything we could see, everything that could surprise, is already behind us. Unfortunately, this cynical attitude also infects our reading of Scripture. We no longer express wonder at the God who has brought the universe into existence or split seas in two. We've heard those things before--and they no longer inspire our awe.

That's not the case with children. They are built for wonder. They are fresh. Their eyes are new. They have not only not seen everything; they have seen virtually nothing at all. Better still, they know how little they are. We look at the stars God made and calls by name (Psalm 147:4) and see balls of burning gases. Our children, uninfected with such modern arrogance, see them for what they are--God's grand fireworks display--and their eyes are filled with appreciation and wonder. We adults look at a butterfly and ponder the biology of its transformation from a caterpillar and consider the mechanics of its flight. Children see the beauty of a butterfly's colors and feel the gravity-defying lightness of its gosamer wings. Children are quick to gasp, swift to ooh, and eager to aah. They see the world for what it is--a dance, not a machine.
~R.C. Sproul, Jr.
The Call to Wonder

I Get To! You Get To! Praise God We Get To!

"I sit at my dining room table and fight back tears because I get to live the blessing of Psalm 128:

Blessed is every one who fears the LORD,
Who walks in His ways.

When you eat the labor of your hands,
You shall be happy, and it shall be well with you.
Your wife shall be like a fruitful vine
In the very heart of your house,
Your children like olive plants
All around your table.
Behold, thus shall the man be blessed
Who fears the LORD.

The LORD bless you out of Zion,
And may you see the good of Jerusalem
All the days of your life.
Yes, may you see your children's children.

Peace be upon Israel!

Those children were not, but now they are. And I am falling into the modernist's erroneous thinking if I say they came here merely through natural processes. If I reduce the whole process to the birds and the bees, I miss the beauty and glory of God orchestrating our conception of six of those eight children as well as orchestrating our two adoptions. Of course, ultimately He controls all things--from the rise and fall of nations to the descent of a single leaf in autumn. But here, He bends over backward to remind us that He forms our children and puts homeless children in families.

There are circles in circles that multiply the glory of the dance. I get to sit at the table and watch my firstborn delight in her younger brother. I get to see him drink in the joy of the five-year-old. I get to see my thirteen-year old establish a bond with her littlest brother, and he her. I get to see my two youngest girls delight in each other and also welcome their new brother into their world. I get to experience this reality--not the exasperating, wallet-stretching view that I have eight--eight--children. No, I get to live in a world with my beloved wife, with Darby, Campbell, Shannon, Delaney, Erin, Claire, Maili, Reilly, and Donovan. I may be the dad, but I am a kid in a candy store, a candy store owned and stocked by my heavenly Father who loves me.

I get to...
What do you get to do?

~R.C. Sproul, Jr. , A Call to Wonder


And mothers, think of all we "get to" do each day. Are we losing the wonder underneath the laundry and dishes and millionth time of correcting the same child for the same sin? I often have those momentary lapses of gratitude.

Our "get to" stories are different, but they should all move us to a place of wonder that the God who made us has given us so much, and we deserve none of it. Write your own "get to" story. Fill in the blanks. It can only leave you overwhelmed by His goodness and giving Him all of the glory.

With love,
Trisha