The journey to get back home from Ireland was quite an experience. On the six hour plane ride from Shannon to Newark, I was in a window seat (my favorite) next to a lovely young Irish couple from Limerick. In front of me was a little boy and his dad. The little boy also occupied the window seat, sitting directly in front of me. It was not long before he captivated my attention.
The little boy sat staring out the window, both on take-off and on landing. He couldn't get enough of the little cars, little people, little houses, defined geography. I watched him turn to his dad every so often to excitedly point out a new observation.
I remembered as I watched him how I was just like that when I was little. Why did that astonishment disappear in some ways? I still get touched by the colors in the sky and the patterns on the ground. But it doesn't make me dream like it used to--it doesn't make me sit back in total wonder of the greatness of God.
This year, being what it was, I think without realizing it a part of my heart got hardened towards wonder. I took that grown-up route of jadedness--of having to be practical with my life and figure everything out in understandable terms. I let my heart get mistrustful towards people--and in the process, it got hard towards God.
That little boy's wonder convicted me. A child-like, innocent wonder need not be lost with growing older. I want it back. I want it back this year, 2010. Every area where I've been disinterested in the movements of God's heart, I want to get softened.
"God, make me an innocent again. Give me that wonder of a child who flies in the air for the first time."
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