Wonder is a rare feeling these days. Sometimes you can stumble upon it by chance in small ways. But at the start of this September, I felt a surge of wonder. I had the pleasure of attending an in-person tournament for my favorite game, Splatoon 3. Walking into the room was like getting hit by a blast of wind. A mass of people gathered in pockets across the room, tables containing the innumerable number of wires for the game setups were scattered around, and colorful stands for artists lined the wall, packed with pins, posters and the like. However, nothing compared to the warm feeling of talking to the individual people there. That made it clear that my team and I were welcome. That sort of communal, wondrous love shocked me. I knew the community was great, but feeling that love was not a part of the experience that I had planned.
It's this kind of love that everyone deserves to feel. A kind of love that unfortunately seemed distant for Mary and Joseph on the eve of the birth of Christ. They encountered inn after inn, space after space where there was no welcome to be found. Was there really no possible place open to them? Surely there was one place. At this point, even a stable would suffice, and suffice it did. When the doors of the stable opened, it may not have revealed a spectacle, but that wondrous love was certainly present within the stable owner’s kind words. Mary and Joseph came to Bethlehem with the sole purpose of being counted in the census. To be welcomed in this manner was not in the plan, yet it appeared in the kindness of one individual. In one moment, with one answer: yes. Even these smallest moments can harbor love. And that is a wonder in itself.
Prayer: God, crafter of the cosmos, we ask you to attune our attention to the subtle movements of the divine. Whether that be the wonder washing over the face of a child, how the eyes of those we hold dear convey their happiness, or the awe that resonates within us when we take in a view of our splinter of creation. Show us that you manifest in these small ways no matter how much we strive to plan each moment. We pray that as we wait for tomorrow’s radiant dawn, you remind us how precious the movement of the moment can be. Amen.
Ben Pacyga has been in the Highland community since he was dedicated as a baby in 2003. He’s now pursuing a master’s degree in computer science and engineering and sings in the sanctuary choir.