Wonder and Whimsy
prayers, poems, and conversations with God
Morning pages: the practice of writing to God (usually before the sun rises), listening for His voice in return.
Wednesday
Time is a dictator. It is not early morning when I write these pages, and I carry more fear, late morning, than I do when the dawn is my friend.
Daytime, the sun’s rays feel less friendly than the moments before the sun raises its head.
What solace, what consolation can you bring me, Lord? Help me to hear you. I consecrate my thoughts, my ideas and plans.
All We Have and Then
Tenderness covers all things–
at the train station where passengers,
luggage bulky, pound knees as they
ascend the narrow stairs,
and the breakfast table, cluttered
with beautiful detritus–a blue bowl
of cereal, a spoon sunk into milk
laced with sugar, and stacks
of music pages,
the violinist’s composition
singing, robust and full-hearted,
tucked hastily
into a canvas backpack
for the bike ride to school,
all beginning, this
journey ahead, with preparation,
each movement a choice, “Do I
take this with me?” or “Do I leave it
here?” Here, where we plumb
desire and ask permission to give
it all, give this day all, we
ever have.
Hi, this is nice, being here with you. What do I need to know? How are you inviting me to grow?
Patience.
Can you tell me more?
Keep going in the same direction.
I feel curious.
Feel curious.
Help me to be faithful to you and to the work you put before me. I love you, Jesus.
Thursday
Delicious are these days, Lord. February sun, temperatures warming to seventy-three degrees by afternoon. This morning’s ruck was lovely, and now my heart’s sad because of the local, national, and worldwide news. I give you my heart. Give me courage to stay rooted—in beauty, in truth, in hope—and fueled by your love.
Deep breath.
Rein me in.
I consecrate my thoughts. I consecrate my ideas—guide my work today. Let me feel the grass under my bare feet as I walk in the Garden with you. The blooms on each flower are lush and fragrant. I breathe them in. I want to absorb your fragrance.
You must have a fragrance. You have given us senses—to absorb your beauty. What will my sense of smell detect when I am with you?
Name it. Imagine it. Let me help you imagine.
Pine forests, ocean coolness, salty air. Mendocino and Sequoia, vanilla cake, honey, campfire, broken sticks, moss, fresh mushrooms, air, rainbows (what?), a horse’s mane, Grandma’s quilt and skin, Grandpa’s aftershave, orchard dirt, sweat, chocolate, coffee grounds, a mountain pass, wind, Goldenrod, every flower, a dog’s tongue, a hug (warmth), wet concrete afer rain, snow, metal, Christmas trees and cookies, peppermint, lavender, my skin, wet grass, summer stalks of dried weeds, apple cider, a kiss, desert night, stars, clouds, colors (all of them), light (all of it), wine, a box of newly opened candy, chocolate chip cookies, whipped cream, Vick’s Vaporub, rhubarb, cinnamon, all the pies, orange blossoms, brownies, incense, wooden church pews, everything I’ve always known, even what I don’t know yet.
When It is Hard to See
Tell me what you know, even though you don’t
know it yet, not the doctor’s report,
the measured eyes penetrating you
like they can see all the way through
to the desert lands of hope’s birth,
your birth, your birth of hope and
the promise of you I kept, even though you
didn’t know it, didn’t know what
it meant to keep something given,
the beginning of you and all
that beauty, the weight of it making
you strong, the strongest, despite
all circumstances, you have ever been.
Friday
Beautiful, all the ways you help me see you, hear you, feel you. My heart is calm, peaceful. I love the reading you invite me into—so much story in pages. How amazing it is to be human.
Can/will you give me a peek into what you are doing in me now, in ways I know and ways I don’t?
What am I pondering? What am I experiencing? What am I working through? The gifts of a slow, rich life, the longing to do fewer things, to have space to think and wonder and explore.
What is “wonder,” Lord, and what is its allure? Perhaps wonder feels “other,” and we long for that, deep down? What does it mean to seek wonder, or be hungry for whimsy? Why does this feel so important? Is it because play is important? Is it because wonder and whimsy help us be present to ourselves—and we long, at the very least (and most essential) to know and enjoy our very selves?
I wonder if we take the significance of valuing our own company for granted? Is that essential to being in connection with you? I imagine it must be impossible to encounter your love—and your love for us, in particular—and not feel a sense of our own belovedness, to not accept it, to some degree,
I love you.
Our talking used to look different. Are you speaking to me less than you used to, or have I not been listening to or recognizing your voice?
Be still.
How do I trust that you are speaking, that this is you? How can I trust my imagination—or the thoughts in my head?
Let there be no separation between us.
But my thoughts are not your thoughts; my ways are not your ways.
Run, run, run, my child—here, into my arms. Be free.
Of what?
Preconceptions of what closeness with me looks like. North and south. East and west. Up and down. Inside and out. Be with me. Enjoy me. Love me. As I love you. In all ways. Now.
Saturday
Saturday morning, so full of possibilities. I pray this “anything is possible” attitude that I have in the mornings continues through this beautiful day. I have such gratitude in my heart, Lord, and I love this quiet season. I enjoy venturing out to the garden to see what new, tiny shoots are appearing. I pray the two peony plants that have yet to appear grow.
Be refreshed.
Will you tell me more?
Do not fear. Stay close to me. Just because things are good now doesn’t mean things will soon be bad.
I confess I am of two minds—peaceful and faith-focused, and also fearful. I break the lie that I must protect myself through worry. My heart wants more of you, Lord. Help me be with you. What do I need to learn? How do you want me to grow? How can I do a better job of loving and encouraging?
Around to Say
Let my heart be heard, and yours
too, gorgeous as it is, galloping
gentle soft, no disguise (I see you)
in whispers winding towards
one another to say let us
believe in beauty now,
absence of fear,
no trembling, just
longing to let
loosening begin,
open hands, hope, and
the figment of
thought: I don’t know
when or where or how,
but let, let
ourselves believe.
I will believe Lord. I will rejoice in your gift of wonder. Tell me again, what wonder is? What role does it play in our lives?
You are a wonder, my wonder. (What a lovely word.)
Perhaps a new favorite. :) Wondering about wonder. Lovely. And the word, “Let,” when you said, “Let there by light” and “there was light”!
Let there be a heart of wonder in me.
Let your heart be my heart.
Let hope and love fuel my thoughts and actions.
Let fear leave me—that I have no taste for it.
Let delight and goodness be at home in my heart.
Let me trust you.
Let me find my home in you—and be always found by you.
Let me be lovely in your eyes.
Let me stay here, all day, with you.
Amen.
Justin Camp wrote “The Voice in the Alley.”
Justin Camp wrote “Listening Prayer.”
Sample ➼ Created to Hear God by Havilah Cunnington
Sample ➼ How to Hear God by Pete Greig
Encounter ➼ “Your Day With Jesus”
Audio Experience ➼ “Have an Encounter With Jesus”
Rapt’s Feelings Wheel ➼ Discover your Inner Life
We updated Rapt’s ‘Best of’ lists this week. Lots of new stuff!
Andrew Erwin, half of the renowned filmmaking duo The Erwin Brothers, serve as CEO at Kingdom Story Company.
Stephen McWhirter is a Dove Award-winning and Grammy-nominated worship recording artist, songwriter, speaker and author.
Joshua Becker is a No. 1 Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author and the founder and editor of Becoming Minimalist.
Bonnie Keen is a Dove Award–winning recording artist, author, and speaker, and a founding member of the Grammy-nominated trio First Call.
P.S. Who should we interview next? Click here to let us know. And what new question would you like us to ask them? Click here to submit your suggestion.
“Our failure to hear His voice when we want to is due to the fact that we do not in general want to hear it, that we want it only when we think we need it.”
—Dallas Willard
Willard suggests that we often miss God’s voice because we treat Him like a crisis hotline rather than a constant companion, tuning Him out until we exhaust our own solutions. Where can you intentionally pause your rushing today to simply listen to Him as a friend, rather than waiting until you desperately need an answer?
With so much hope,
Editor-at-Large, Rapt Interviews
Creator of Loop for Women
Co-executive Director, Gather Ministries
So powerful and beautiful and captures my heart Jennifer. I do my morning writings too and love all this. I love how you share it all as a beautiful conversation of prose and verse.