Wonder or Wander?

This week, Gina and I began a six-week sabbatical from our ministry at the church. I’m deeply grateful for this gift of time, not simply to rest from ministry, but to learn how to truly rest in God so I can know the rest of God.

Before our sabbatical began, we prayed and asked the Lord what He wanted us to read during these weeks. The day before we left, our daughter Mary came over with books and journals for each of us. She had no idea what we had been praying.

The book she handed me was Living in Wonder by Rod Dreher.

I smiled.

It felt like one more confirmation that God was already answering our prayer. He was gently telling me, “This is what I want to teach you.”

I’ve always been captivated by the sky. I am up early in the morning, around 3:30 a.m., to spend time with Him and go to the gym.

Every morning, God paints a masterpiece that has never existed before and will never be repeated. The clouds never arrange themselves the same way twice.

The colors are never identical. Every sunrise is unique. Every sunset reveals another glimpse of His creativity.

As David wrote in Psalm 19:1:

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” 

This past couple of days in Ocean City, I couldn’t stop taking pictures.

Each morning God seemed to whisper,

Look again. Don’t miss this.

Yet as I reflected on the word wonder, another word kept coming to mind.

Wander.

Only one letter separates the two words, but spiritually they couldn’t be more different.

Wonder is to stand in awe. To slow down. To notice. To marvel at God and His work.

Wander is to drift. To lose focus. To let our hearts and minds move away from God’s perspective.

I wish I could say I always choose wonder.

The truth is, my mind wanders far more often than I’d like to admit.

One day, the beach closest to us was closed for restoration, forcing everyone onto the remaining open beach to the right. It was crowded. Really crowded.

My first thoughts weren’t very spiritual.

“There’s no room.”

“Why are there so many people?”

“This is going to be frustrating.”

My mind wandered.

But then I looked over.

Massive tractors and heavy equipment were restoring the beach. Mountains of sand were being reshaped. What first looked like an inconvenience was actually restoration taking place.

Suddenly my perspective changed.

Those enormous machines fascinated people watching nearby, especially my grandchildren later that evening.

They stood there in complete awe, eyes fixed on every movement, amazed by what they were seeing.

Then another thought struck me.

I had been so focused on the crowd that I almost missed both the restoration happening beside me and the beauty of the people around me.

Every person on that beach was as unique as the clouds above us.

Every face bore the image of God.

Every life had a story.

Every heart was deeply known by the Creator.

Every soul was someone Jesus longs to bring into relationship with Himself.

Psalm 139 reminds us

that God knit each one of us together and knows every one of our days before one of them came to be.

The same God who never paints the same sunrise twice never creates two identical people.

Creation was inviting me to wonder, but my thoughts were pulling me toward wandering.

Maybe that’s the battle we all face.

Wonder lifts our eyes to God.

Wandering pulls them away.

Wonder notices God’s fingerprints.

Wandering notices only our inconveniences.

Wonder sees restoration.

Wandering sees interruption.

This week, God has been reminding me that life looks very different when I choose wonder over wander.

And perhaps that’s the invitation for all of us today.

The next time you’re tempted to focus on what’s frustrating, pause for a moment.

Look up.

Look around.

You might discover that while your mind has been wandering, God has been painting another masterpiece… restoring something you couldn’t yet see… and surrounding you with people He loves far more deeply than you ever imagined.

Choose wonder.

Because when we lose our wonder, it’s usually not long before our hearts begin to wander.