The WOW! (Part 1)
My firstborn daughter was an early talker. Lizzy spoke paragraphs by the time she was eighteen months old. Of course, anyone who knew me wasn’t surprised that a daughter of mine would have a love for words. However, I was constantly in awe of the verbiage that slipped out of my tiny girl’s mouth. (Perhaps that’s because my only exposure to toddler linguistics had come from my son who had managed to communicate his needs just fine through one word commands and monotone grunts.)
Not only was I flabbergasted by the amount of talking my daughter did, but I was equally amazed by the kinds of words that colored Elizabeth’s vocabulary at such a young age. Shortly after she had mastered the common baby words like Mama and Dada, Lizzy picked up a word that made me smile every time it burst from her little mouth. The word was “WOW!”
It wasn’t just the word that made me giggle, but the expression with which it was said. Blue eyes brimming with awe, Lizzy trumpeted her proclamation of wonder countless times a day. When her big brother did a somersault, Lizzy admired his talent with a “WOW!” When she sat on the potty and created a masterpiece in the toilet, Lizzy applauded her big girl ambition with a “WOW!” When I served up a plate of peas and hot dogs, Lizzy responded to my meager lunch offering with a “WOW!
With the help of that three-letter word, our daughter became a master at expressing delight. One night as Lizzy “wowed” over something at the dinner table, I turned to my husband and commented, “That’s such a strange word for an eighteen-month-old to use. I don’t remember Luke ever saying that at her age.”
Rob smiled at his dynamic girl and then replied with sound logic. “Luke didn’t use that word as a toddler. But it’s not really all that surprising that Lizzy does if you think about it. I mean, Luke learned to talk from listening to you. And Lizzy is learning to talk by mimicking her brother.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, wondering if Rob was implying that my young son was more competent at teaching our child to talk than I had been.
“Just that Lizzy is imitating Lukas and he says wow in response to lots of things now that he’s four. I just can’t remember the last time I heard you wow over something.” Rob wiped his hands on his napkin and pushed back from the table. “Lukas didn’t learn the word when he was young because you didn’t use it regularly.”
For some strange reason, that conversation left me feeling defensive. I thought about it for days, and wondered why it bothered me so. Rob was right, of course, and his explanation was logical. So, why couldn’t I stop thinking about what he had said?
Weeks later, I stood in the balcony of our large church and joined the praise team in a worshipful rendition of How Great Thou Art, “O Lord my God when I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds thy hands have made…” Chills ran up and down my entire body as I sang that familiar line. Then, as the choir continued to sing, I felt God whisper to my wonder-less heart, “When was the last time you considered anything in awesome wonder? “
My first response was complete defensiveness– much like my reaction to my husband’s matter-of-fact observation at the dinner table. Seriously, Lord, you know my life! When’s the last time I had a moment to consider anything other than what I’m going to make for dinner tonight. And how I’m going to remove the red lollipop from my toddler’s hair without leaving a bald spot. And what box of diapers is the cheapest with my coupon because we’re going broke at Wal-Mart these days! Come on, God, what mom can carve out time to consider wonder when she is wondering how in the world she’s going to juggle the three practices after school that are all scheduled at the same time in three different places. And right in the middle of the baby’s nap. Who –besides frolicking two–year-olds–has time for wonder?
Though I longed to dismiss the Lord’s question with impracticality as my defense, I had the nagging feeling that I was passing on something bigger than just wonder. I was refusing more than just a few wows along the way. What if I was passing on abundantt life itself? What if wonder was just a fingerprint of something more, like the life Jesus talked about when He declared, “I’ve come to give you life and give it to the full!”?
Did my two year old really have a greater capacity for wonder than her thirty–something mama? And why would my Savior have offered life to the brim if He hadn’t created each of us with the same capacity to receive His gift?
Little did I know my answer would soon be delivered through a broken plastic bucket. (I’ll tell you more about that tomorrow in “Part 2”).
The Overflow: I’ve come to give you life; life overflowing!
-John 10:10
