March 11, 2025 (Day 6, pages 33–40)
Relapses into Wonder
They settle in, hands resting gently in their laps, seated in a semi-circle.
“I wonder what part of this story is just for you today?”
They lean in.
“I wonder where you see yourself in this story?”
They listen.
“I wonder what happens next?”
They pause.
“I wonder what this story tells us about God?”
The storyteller doesn’t rush to explain. Silence is given room to breathe. The story lingers, settling into their hearts. The invitation isn’t to recite what they’ve learned—it’s to listen, to notice, to wonder.
Maybe, if they sit in the quiet long enough, they’ll hear something deeper. A voice. A presence. A melody playing just beneath the surface.
For years, Godly Play shaped the way we engaged sacred stories with our children, not as lessons to be mastered but as invitations into something deeper.
Jesus once said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3
“The more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it had established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.”
— G.K. Chesterton
Somewhere along the way, we stopped playing. We stopped wondering. We started reaching for certainty, mistaking explanations for faith.
Josh Nadeau writes about this too—the slow erosion of wonder. About how, somewhere between childhood and adulthood, the magic goes quiet. The world gets loud, and the hunger for something more gets buried beneath routines, responsibilities, and survival. He confesses how he learned to settle—how he numbed himself rather than risk being awake.
And yet, even after all that, the wonder isn’t gone. It waits. The music has never stopped playing.
So today, let’s not rush to explain or analyze. Let’s sit with the questions. Let’s practice wonder.
I Wonder…
- I wonder when I started settling for answers instead of questions?
- I wonder what I’ve been avoiding that’s actually an invitation?
- I wonder how much of my life has been shaped by fear rather than love?
- I wonder where I’ve mistaken certainty for faith?
- I wonder what, or who, awaits when I stop running?
- I wonder if I’ve mistaken comfort for peace?
- I wonder what part of me I’ve lost that God is trying to restore?
- I wonder what grace would feel like if I actually let myself receive it?
- I wonder what God is doing in the places I least expect?
- I wonder if I’m awakening to something new?
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This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
