So I’m gonna be really honest. (You know, because it’s my blog and stuff, and that’s what I do.) The idea of choosing a single word to focus on has been increasingly popular the last several years. I’ve done it for the last two. (Present in 2014 and First in 2015.) But… I still don’t know if I’m doing it right. I mean, it’s a word. I’m not sure how one does “it” right or wrong. But there’s a book about it! And I haven’t read it! So I don’t know if there’s something I should be doing differently or not. (I’m freaking the heck out about this, and have been for about two years now. That’s it. Ordering the book.) (20 minutes later, there are THREE books by different authors. And an internet movement. Why did I not know about this? I’ll figure it out later.)
Oh my goodness. Are you still here? I’m sorry. I’ll try to focus. (Maybe “focus” should be my word. But it isn’t.)
So here we are. Picking a word. It was going to be “curious.” Don’t you love it? I figured out over the course of the last year or two that when I get curious, I handle problems and conflicts differently. And then a couple weeks ago, I read Brené Brown’s book, Rising Strong, and she had this great quote in there:
A study published in the October 22, 2014 issue of the journal Neuron suggests that the brain’s chemistry changes when we become curious, helping us better learn and retain information.
(Yes, I realize I just quoted a quote. But Rising Strong is worth reading, so I’m gonna leave it.)
Curiosity is always the point at which I stop fighting and start finding a way out, both within my own heart and basically in any relationship that’s perplexing me.
My kids are being crazy? When I stop reacting to them and start asking, “What is going on with them? With me?” that’s where the solutions start to emerge and the day begins to turn around.
Or say I’m fighting with my husband. (You know, that one time.) (Just kidding.) If I can stop holding on to why I’m right and he’s mean and turn my thoughts to curiosity, my heart changes and gets softer toward him and that’s generally when we start climbing out of the fight and moving toward each other. “What is really going on here? What’s the story he’s making up about this? What’s the story I’m making up about it?”
When I’m reading the Bible and find myself glazing over, lost in the familiarity of it, curiosity brings my heart back to engagement. “What was God doing here? What’s this say about Him? …”
When I just feel off, a moment of quiet (let’s be serious, this is definitely in the bathroom) and a genuine, nonjudgmental “what is my deal today?” frequently moves me several steps in the direction toward at least finding the problem, and perhaps also toward a solution.
I like “curious” because it helps me climb out of whatever story I’m making up about a situation and helps me see it (or the other person) more clearly. Climbing out of my own story is tricky. It isn’t really that hard, but I have to be paying enough attention to realize I’m inside it in the first place. It’s so easy to just think the thing I’m seeing is reality, but that isn’t ever really the case. What I see is reality plus. Reality plus my history, worldview, my story. And looking at it with curiosity doesn’t necessarily fix that, but it gives me a chance to at least see the things I might be adding to reality that might be making it a little less clear. But I really think spending a year being intentionally curious would build that habit into my heart.
And then the word “wonder” hit me.
Because it’s cheating. If I pick Wonder, I get two for one. I get curiosity, but I also get awe. To be fair, curiosity gets me two meanings, too, but the alternate meaning is “odd.” I like “awe” better. Awe points me straight to the One worthy of awe, and the Giver of all things that make me marvel.
Awe, for me, leads immediately to gratitude. And not the popular, objectless gratitude that’s super trendy right now. (You know, the same kind that has been practiced by secular culture at thanksgiving forever, where one can be thankful for all the good things without necessarily acknowledging a good God that gives all the good things.) Awe requires I look up from the gift to the One who gives it. Then, necessarily, to all the greater gifts He’s also given.
For instance, I’m currently at a coffee shop. I’m thankful for the yummy iced mexilatte I just drank and the relative quiet I get when I’m here. Nobody expects me to talk, and nobody needs me to help them with anything bathroom related. I haven’t been called “mom” since about three this morning. (Don’t get me wrong- I love being “mom” but also I love NOT being “mom” and just being some lady in a coffeeshop.) Looking through the lens of awe, though, I notice that GOD did that. God gave me this incredible gift of some time that’s quiet, where I get to collect my thoughts and fully enjoy the magic of iced coffee and Mexican chocolate served by cheerful and friendly people. God gave me coherent thoughts, which is NOT a small thing in my life. And a chance to borrow Andrew’s laptop, so I can write said thoughts without making my hand fall asleep (it’s a weird pregnancy thing) and without the painstaking pecking with my thumbs that is required to put any thoughts in on my phone. But all of these, while huge blessings to me this morning, are really, really small up against the really big gifts. Like life. Everything. Salvation.
Awe pushes me to zoom out. Way out.
So “wonder.”
Because the combination of curiosity and awe is precisely where I want my heart to land this year.
So how about you? Do you have a word this year? I’d love to hear it.
grace enough 