A few years ago when I turned my calendar over to a new January, I resolved to be more spontaneous. That was a big deal for someone whose days have been extremely structured and for one who gets a bit unsettled when there isn’t a long list of check marks on her to-do list at the end of every day.
Spontaneity. It sounded like fun and perhaps achievable, but then how was I supposed to do it? Write it down on my list of things to do for Tuesday? Wasn’t there something just inherently wrong with writing “BE SPONTANEOUS” on your to-do list? In my sincerest effort to fulfill my resolution, I discovered that after several decades of living such a structured life, spur-of-the-moment, impulsive, unplanned activity would probably not work for me. But I did discover something do-able in the process. I learned to live more in the present.
As I continued to work at living more in the present—being more aware of what was going on each moment, being more present with those around me, being a better listener and aware of what was being said and not being said—I learned to grasp the to-do list less tightly and to be more aware of God’s “blessed interruptions.” It has still been work for me, but perhaps it will lead to a bit of spontaneity.
So now, I find myself wanting more time to ponder. I just love that word. I think there’s a bit of wandering and wondering wrapped up in it, and there are plenty of places inside and outside my brain where I can still wander around and wonder. After six decades, you might think there’s little left to ponder or surprise me. Not true. Case in point—it’s normal to see TV commercials advertising weight-loss programs in January. Advertisers know about New Year’s Resolutions, too. But this one almost slipped by me—a weight loss program for dogs. Ponder that for a moment. In our affluent country where one in four children goes to bed hungry every night, we have enough overweight dogs in this country to make an advertiser spend millions of dollars to sell his product. I’m all for taking care of all God’s creatures, but this one really shocked me and lead me to ponder a bit.
Hopefully, my pondering will lead me to think about loftier or more poetic things like the miracle of cellular structure and birth, or the stunning and delicate beauty of an iris blossom, or the imprint of the dove’s wing on my studio window, or the hope of heaven, or what can I do and say to show my Father how completely grateful I am for all He has done for me. I encourage you to do some pondering. Perhaps it will lead us once again to that wonderment we possessed as children, or maybe our pondering will lead us to action, or maybe just to a quiet moment with our Father when we can ponder His greatness.
Happy pondering . . .
Image: CC Flickr Cenz