Dangerous Wonder
We hiked 1.5 miles through pinon and juniper on a trail that began first as an old road, but soon joined a dry wash. It was only here, in the wash, that the juniper flowers were blooming--one inch in size with five white petals surrounding a golden center. The sienna dirt had bits of obsidian shining in the sunlight, evidence of the past volcanic history. Up ahead Red Mountain looked like hundreds of other cinder hills in the area. With one exception.
The eastern face has been cropped off, almost as if a giant dragon has taken a bite from the mountain, but instead of swallowing the mouthful, he heaved it out where it landed in geological shapes and figures, nestled in the shade.
After a mile the stream bed narrowed between towers of black cinders. Skipping the staircase to the left, we hiked straight up the loose cinder, entering a miniature Bryce Canyon with twisted pillars and slot canyons that wove among the gathered hoodoos.
We explored for several hours. A wonderland of adventure.
A.W. Tozer contended we are afraid of wonder. He wrote, "We cover our deep ignorance with words, but we are ashamed to wonder, we are afraid to whisper, 'mystery.'"
I think wonder is a lost art form. As soon as someone says, "I wonder..." to an unknown question or situation, somebody else is pulling out their phone and looking it up on Google.
This is what I wonder and I am not looking anything up on Google to check it out. I want to be enthralled with the mystery.
Why did the spit-out chunk result in an adventureland of hoodoos?
Who came up with the great name of
hoodoo
?
How did the large boulders end up in the tiny slot canyons?
Why did the juniper trees only bloom in the dry wash?
When was the last time you were filled with wonder?
Jesus admonished his disciples several times to have the faith like a child, faith full of curiosity and wonder.
We recently went on vacation with the family, including our two-year-old grandson. At the cabin in the woods where we stayed was a ladder going over a barbed wire fence. My husband convinced our grandson that he needed to cross over the ladder in order to find squirrels. Many trips up and down the ladder were made with our grandson calling loudly, "Squirrel! Squirrel!"
His eyes were wide with wonder.
My husband also convinced him there were elephants in the woods. But that is another story.
In the book,
Dangerous Wonder
, author Mike Yaconelli tells a story of a time he offered communion in the home of a friend who was battling cancer. While giving the elements to other family members who were present, an eleven-year-old asked Yaconelli how he knew God spoke to him.
Yaconelli explained that sometimes God spoke audibly, but not always, but if he would really listen, God would speak to him. Yaconelli gave the boy a grownup answer. He didn't expect the boy to immediately go into listening mode, face scrunched in concentration.
Suddenly the boy yelled, "I heard Him! I heard God speak!"
"What did He say?" Yaconelli asked. He admits to patronizing him, fully expecting a childish response.
The boy looked him straight in the eye, his young eyes wide with wonder. "He said, 'Don't forget Me!'"
I want to hold onto that depth of wonder.
Where have you found wonder lately?
"Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel who alone works wonders" (Psalm 72:18).To get to Red Mountain, drive 30.6 miles from city hall on Highway 180 out of Flagstaff. Turn at milepost 247. Go .3 miles. The hike is 1.5 miles one way.