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Wonder Is the Antidote to Our Spiritual Numbness
When the soul feels dry and distant, perhaps what we need is not more striving but stillness.

In a world filled with digital distractions and to-do lists, it’s easy to lose the ability to see to truly see. The ordinary no longer inspires. The soul feels dry. Prayers feel thin. Joy feels distant. But what if the solution to our spiritual disorientation isn’t simply “more spirituality”? What if, instead, God is calling us to wonder?
The Christian life certainly includes diligent prayer, Scripture reading, and repentance. But sometimes, in the pursuit of God’s presence, we forget He is also the Creator of the stars, the sunrise, the sparrow. And in our search for deep answers, we can miss the simple invitation: Be still. Look. Listen.
A Forgotten Prescription
Centuries ago, hymn-writer and pastor John Newton made an odd suggestion to a spiritually anxious friend. He didn’t prescribe another sermon or devotional book he recommended a trip. “I thought a ride to the Land’s End,” he wrote, “might do them more good than all the counsel I could give.”
Newton understood something we’ve nearly forgotten: sometimes, the healing balm our souls need is a fresh taste of the world God spoke into being.
Wonder Isn't Optional
By wonder, we don’t mean fantasy or escape. We mean the sacred act of pausing long enough to notice what God has made and to be humbled and gladdened by it. Wonder slows the soul and awakens it. It transforms clouds from background scenery into divine art. It takes mundane blades of grass and restores their grandeur. Wonder restores our humanity because it connects us with the One who formed us.
But today, wonder is endangered.
Americans, on average, check their phones over 200 times a day about once every five minutes. That constant engagement trains our brains to expect stimulation and novelty, yet leaves us bored by real life. The digital world offers us control, predictability, and escape. But it also quietly steals our sensitivity to awe.
Even our love of productivity can become a spiritual snare. Many Christians genuinely love getting things done, but there's a thin line between fruitfulness and frenzy. When busyness crowds our calendar and silence feels unbearable, we risk trading depth for efficiency. We lose the slow, deliberate seeing that wonder requires.
Recovering a Sacred Rhythm
Reclaiming wonder will not happen by accident. It requires intention, and perhaps even repentance. The patterns of this age must be interrupted by the ancient rhythm God built into creation itself. We can begin by adopting two life-giving habits drawn from the creation account in Genesis:
1. Daily Delight
At least once a day, give your full attention to a single created thing. Look at a tree. Listen to the rain. Watch how light dances across the floor. Let yourself be fully present not to analyze or categorize but simply to enjoy.
Clyde Kilby, a professor of English and admirer of creation, challenged himself with this commitment: “Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are.”
You could journal your observations. Or sketch. Or pray. Or just be. But do it daily. For in those moments, you’re not just observing creation you’re recalibrating your soul.
2. Weekly Wonder
Set aside extended time each week to immerse yourself in the beauty of God’s world. Whether it’s a walk in the woods, a quiet sit by the window, or an afternoon at the park with your phone off give creation space to speak.
This isn’t about checking out of life’s responsibilities. It’s about checking in with the rhythms your soul was created for. Genesis 2 tells us that even God Himself rested. Not because He was tired, but because He was satisfied. We are invited into that same satisfaction.
When Seeing Becomes Worship
Creation is not the end it’s the window. We don’t stop at the mountains or the galaxies or the butterflies. We follow them all the way up to the One who made them. The ultimate purpose of wonder is worship.
Psalm 148 models this beautifully. The psalmist surveys heaven and earth sun, moon, fire, hail, beasts, kings and beckons them all into praise. Why? Because in every blade of grass and every crashing wave, God's name is exalted (Psalm 148:13). His beauty echoes through every corner of His world.
Jesus Himself lived this way. He paid attention to sparrows and lilies, to vineyards and fig trees. His parables were filled with references to the natural world not as poetic flourishes, but as signposts to divine truth. Creation was not peripheral to His teaching it was central. And it should be to ours, too.
The Path Forward
So, what if your spiritual dryness is less about spiritual laziness and more about neglecting the world God made for your joy? What if part of your sanctification includes wonder? What if healing starts not in louder prayers, but in quieter moments?
You don’t have to move to the mountains. You don’t need to delete every app or quit your job. But you do need space to see again to look out your window and remember who made the sky. To silence your phone and hear the whispering wind. To lay aside your list and notice the unrepeatable beauty of a moment.
God has not only spoken in Scripture; He has also spoken in stars and streams. His glory is written across the heavens (Psalm 19:1) and whispered in every unfolding leaf.
So today, take five minutes. Step outside. Open your eyes. See the signature of your Maker in the world around you.
You may find that the wonder you've been missing is the worship you've been needing.
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