Awe and wonder

Here’s a post that hopefully may bring a bit of cheer to you in these dark days of winter and Covid. It’s from my forthcoming book Praying Without Pretence: Honest Prayers for Honest People, which I’m hoping will be published reasonably soon next year, and it celebrates those simple but special moments when we are captivated by a sense of awe and wonder. If ever we needed such moments, today we do surely so more than ever.

When filled with awe and wonder

I watched the sun setting this evening, Lord,
and my spirit leapt in delight,
aching at the beauty of the sight.
I was entranced,
captivated,
for it was so special,
so lovely,
turning my thoughts from the trivial and mundane
to the profound,
the awesome,
the divine.
Yes, some might reduce such a moment to the laws of physics,
insisting rightly that nothing in the natural world points intrinsically to you,
but to me it spoke nonetheless of something other,
something beyond,
calling forth praise and worship,
joy and gratitude.
Thank you for everything that has the power to do that –
everything in this astonishing world that has the power to amaze and enthral,
uplift and inspire:
the colours of a rainbow,
grandeur of a storm,
view from a mountain peak,
thunder of ocean waves,
bleating of a lamb and cry of a newborn child,
exuberance of a dawn chorus,
scent of a bluebell or summer’s rose,
splendour of a cathedral,
twinkling of stars at night –
all this and so much more that causes me to catch my breath in wonder,
gasp in astonishment
and sing in my soul.
For the astonishing riches of this world –
its mind-blowing beauty, diversity and complexity –
to you, Lord, be thanks,
and honour,
glory
and praise,
now and always.
Amen.