A holy wonder.

When it’s hard to be patient, make her willing to suffer;

When it’s ridiculous to be thankful, make her see all is grace;

When it’s radical to forgive, make her live the foundation of our faith; 

And when it’s time to work… make her a holy wonder.

-Ann Voskamp 

 

A holy wonder.

 

 

It’s a Tuesday evening, the kind of day that asked for boots and a scarf so I willingly complied. I’m tired–not weary, just sleepy. But here I am, reading about becoming a holy wonder and wondering what does that mean? A holy wonder.

 

Maybe it’s someone you watch in awe, wondering how? How do you do it? Because you’re so lovely and strong and driven, and you are blowing my mind and I want to know how you do it. You’re holy, everything about you, even the way you throw your head back when you laugh and the way you kneel down to look her in the eye, the little girl with the pigtails. You make me understand how He could have said that He made us in His image, man and woman. There’s some of His glory in you. There’s thousands of years in your eyes, a lifetime of history in your soul. You know the secrets to the galaxies beyond our stars, I can tell. What’s your secret?

 

A holy wonder.

 

The more time that passes, the more I understand how God could know me better than I know myself. Because the more I learn, the more I realize how little I know about myself. How can I be me without understanding me? A strengths test tells me I’m brave and inspiring, and I laugh. A test tells me what I, myself, do not know.

 

You appear to study human beings the way others study for final tests.

Perhaps you speak with an air of authority that you fail to hear.

Often your assertiveness surprises you as well as others.

Because of your strengths, you might engage in life with gusto.

Periodically, people marvel at your ability to move on to something else after you have met with defeat.

 

And I wonder at this, their description of an intense, fearless woman that I do not see when I look in the mirror. And I begin to suspect that perhaps I am what Ann described, a holy wonder. Could it be? And I try to remember to breathe evenly as my dreams grow a little bigger, get a little stronger in the arms of a woman who might be strong enough to carry them.

 

And if this chapter of my story is about becoming, it would be more appropriately titled I’m getting there. This is a journey, a journey from being a girl to being a woman, and my gut is whispering baby, you’re almost there. And I know it won’t be easy, but one day I’ll wake up and be ready to nurse a baby into the world and teach her about the galaxies and the turning of the stars and she’ll say Mama, I can see them in your eyes.

 

And oh, how the tears will flow on that day, the day I realize that I am no longer a child. The day that it will become my prayer, my plea to the God of the stars to put them in the eyes of my little girl. A girl who breathes sparks into the world and knows what it means to be a holy wonder.

 

A holy wonder.

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