The amazing thing is- I am a why & tell me the details person & love science- and it is your writing (and all the creative arts) that make me think/feel a similar “wow!” I was just telling a friend last night that when a choir sings all together, I always feel like no one could deny a creator- because how can notes & voices coming together create something so beautiful without one??? I’ll take a choir moment or a story moment over a mountaintop experience any day 😂
I’m trying to get more comfortable with mystery lately—so it is interesting you pose the question. The high school debate club kid in me feels like I need to know the answer to every possible question. I actually just had a conversation with my husband yesterday where I recognized that I don’t always need to have a bullet point list of reasons for every move I make. That it’s okay to say, “This just isn’t for me” without having a particularly clear or strong reason for it. I don’t need to prove or justify myself to others as much as I think I do.
The older I get, the more I love the mystery of God and his creation. To me, it opens up how incredible he is—as much as I love to wrangle with philosophical and theological questions, I am not bothered by not understanding. We have eternity ahead to keep learning, and that’s a joy for me.
I live in a house with an engineer and three growing engineers. There are plenty of dinner conversations where I zone out and look out the window at the birds playing in the birdbath, or pondering how I’d work these characters of mine into a story. And then there are the moments when I realize I *do* understand something about buildings and infrastructure because I’ve lived with a civil engineer for almost 30 years, and that when I’m writing I consider things like how a tower could be livable and the best structure for a house in an earthquake-prone area. It’s amazing to me how the parts of my life intersect unexpectedly.
I love this, Elizabeth. Your science fair experience made me think of countless school fields trips during which I would listen to friends ask tour guides all of these super intelligent sounding questions - questions it never would have occurred to me to think about. I was the "wow" kind of kid, too - I just wanted to soak up the experience as much as I could. And honestly, I used to be embarrassed about that, wishing I could think of something smart-sounding to ask on field trips, but feeling like Brian Regan in the butterfly pavilion. ("Does this one like to eat?") I realize now that 1. I was way too focused on sounding smart; 2. The best questions are earnest ones, born of genuine curiosity - they can't be forced; 3. We're all wired so differently, and as much as we need people who are full of questions, we also need people who are full of wonder; 4. I really love being a wonderer.
As a retired engineer, I can assure you that even the most seasoned scientists never lose the "WOW" experience since the further they dig into their particular specialty, the more WOW shows up (I'm thinking astronomy and astrophysics with the James Webb Space Telescope, Giant Magellan Telescope, et al, and molecular biology with electron and super-resolution microscopes as examples).
I believe you, Ken! A couple of Christmases ago I read a book about comets (The Great Christ Comet), which specifically theorized about the Star of Bethlehem, but went into a great deal about astronomy. I was blown away by what little I could comprehend. What is man that God is mindful of us, indeed!
This is such a great piece. Now it has me musing that most of what God has written for us in Scripture consists of this-happened-then-that-happened. Most of what we need to know has to be conveyed that way, it's how a story gets told. We will endlessly debate the shades of meaning of all Christ did, right up until His return, but first we need to know that He came, He did this and said that, then He died, and then He rose again. Most of the theology we add on top of that probably equates to little yellow zig-zags supposed to explain "how it works." Thanks for sharing your writing. The energy transfers.
Thank you, Reuben. That means a whole lot to me. Yes, the very bare facts that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ is coming again is enough. I'm glad you enjoyed this piece and thanks for saying so!
First: When can I pre-order a book of these essays?
But in response to your question: I went straight from K-12 homeschooling to a state university. I felt like I didn't belong just about anywhere on that campus.
The day of my first English class, I arrived at the building 20 minutes early. (This was new for me -- as third of eleven children, I was not accustomed to EVER arriving early.)
I entered on the ground floor, and my classroom was in room 311. I knew from my many visits to hospital maternity wards that this meant I had to somehow get to the third floor. There was no elevator in this building. I did manage to find a stairwell, but it bore an ominous sign: "FIRE EXIT / KEEP CLOSED AT ALL TIMES". No way was I touching that door.
I stood around and wondered what to do. The Forbidden Stairwell was my only route of ascent. Five minutes passed. Then ten. There was a vending machine nearby and I bought a bag of Karr's snack mix. I ate it one piece at a time: raisin, sunflower kernel, M&M, peanut. Meanwhile, the stairwell showed no sign of life.
The ten-minute bell rang and a flood of students trampled down the stairs and out the door. As the last one exited the stairwell, I darted in, being sure not to leave any prints behind me.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, my heart in my throat. I tried to make myself breathe. Surely this was OK... right? So many other violators. Why not walk in this counsel of the wicked, just this once? Why not climb this stairway of scoffers?
I reached the third floor. Another FIRE DOOR, again forbidden to open. I stood there a few more minutes, running possible scenarios through my head. No other students seemed to be coming, and lateness seemed even worse than whatever penalty there was for opening the door.
I seized the doorknob, turned it, darted through, and did my best to stroll down the hall to 311. I slid into a chair in the front row, took out my notebook and pencil, and tried to breathe like a normal, law-abiding citizen, one who hadn't just compromised his entire moral framework in order to make it to class on time.
One of the unwritten rules of homeschoolers must be "Don't ever ask potentially dumb questions; instead, figure everything out for yourself" because I've felt trapped a time or two myself. It's as though those door signs are written in a foreign language, and I have to decode the meaning and then act like I understood all along. Society: the real life Escape Room of the homeschooler world.
No jazz hands needed…that’s for sure! The fact that you wrote and sang a song about hydropower had me laughing at my kitchen table. I also ended up at a science fair with a trifold poster. I also wondered how I ended up there. I researched the growth of mold in chocolate cupcakes, so whoever corralled me into the science fair at least recognized my aptitude for baking.
Elizabeth, I laughed so much with such delight; I just loved going on the ride of your science fair journey! I also got misty at the end. I'm inspired. Thank you!!
The amazing thing is- I am a why & tell me the details person & love science- and it is your writing (and all the creative arts) that make me think/feel a similar “wow!” I was just telling a friend last night that when a choir sings all together, I always feel like no one could deny a creator- because how can notes & voices coming together create something so beautiful without one??? I’ll take a choir moment or a story moment over a mountaintop experience any day 😂
Yes, a choir singing harmony is always a WOW experience for me. Actually one of my favorites.
I’m trying to get more comfortable with mystery lately—so it is interesting you pose the question. The high school debate club kid in me feels like I need to know the answer to every possible question. I actually just had a conversation with my husband yesterday where I recognized that I don’t always need to have a bullet point list of reasons for every move I make. That it’s okay to say, “This just isn’t for me” without having a particularly clear or strong reason for it. I don’t need to prove or justify myself to others as much as I think I do.
I’m so glad there are people in the world like you, Heather. Who else would turn on the lights for the rest of us? Please keep asking questions.
The older I get, the more I love the mystery of God and his creation. To me, it opens up how incredible he is—as much as I love to wrangle with philosophical and theological questions, I am not bothered by not understanding. We have eternity ahead to keep learning, and that’s a joy for me.
I live in a house with an engineer and three growing engineers. There are plenty of dinner conversations where I zone out and look out the window at the birds playing in the birdbath, or pondering how I’d work these characters of mine into a story. And then there are the moments when I realize I *do* understand something about buildings and infrastructure because I’ve lived with a civil engineer for almost 30 years, and that when I’m writing I consider things like how a tower could be livable and the best structure for a house in an earthquake-prone area. It’s amazing to me how the parts of my life intersect unexpectedly.
I can imagine your engineers have also learned a lot about holding space for wonder from you, Loren! Keep staring out the window!!
I went to Washington DC to compete in the National Spelling Bee in 1976. There was a lot of WOW. 😊
Tell us more! I need a little more this-happened-and-then-that-happened. 😁
First a national spelling bee, and then Jeopardy! Your whole life is WOW to me.
Wow!
All of your stories are my favorite. I love this so much!
I love this, Elizabeth. Your science fair experience made me think of countless school fields trips during which I would listen to friends ask tour guides all of these super intelligent sounding questions - questions it never would have occurred to me to think about. I was the "wow" kind of kid, too - I just wanted to soak up the experience as much as I could. And honestly, I used to be embarrassed about that, wishing I could think of something smart-sounding to ask on field trips, but feeling like Brian Regan in the butterfly pavilion. ("Does this one like to eat?") I realize now that 1. I was way too focused on sounding smart; 2. The best questions are earnest ones, born of genuine curiosity - they can't be forced; 3. We're all wired so differently, and as much as we need people who are full of questions, we also need people who are full of wonder; 4. I really love being a wonderer.
Hahahaha I nearly fell out of my chair reading this. I love Brian Regan!
As a retired engineer, I can assure you that even the most seasoned scientists never lose the "WOW" experience since the further they dig into their particular specialty, the more WOW shows up (I'm thinking astronomy and astrophysics with the James Webb Space Telescope, Giant Magellan Telescope, et al, and molecular biology with electron and super-resolution microscopes as examples).
I believe you, Ken! A couple of Christmases ago I read a book about comets (The Great Christ Comet), which specifically theorized about the Star of Bethlehem, but went into a great deal about astronomy. I was blown away by what little I could comprehend. What is man that God is mindful of us, indeed!
This is such a great piece. Now it has me musing that most of what God has written for us in Scripture consists of this-happened-then-that-happened. Most of what we need to know has to be conveyed that way, it's how a story gets told. We will endlessly debate the shades of meaning of all Christ did, right up until His return, but first we need to know that He came, He did this and said that, then He died, and then He rose again. Most of the theology we add on top of that probably equates to little yellow zig-zags supposed to explain "how it works." Thanks for sharing your writing. The energy transfers.
Thank you, Reuben. That means a whole lot to me. Yes, the very bare facts that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ is coming again is enough. I'm glad you enjoyed this piece and thanks for saying so!
First: When can I pre-order a book of these essays?
But in response to your question: I went straight from K-12 homeschooling to a state university. I felt like I didn't belong just about anywhere on that campus.
The day of my first English class, I arrived at the building 20 minutes early. (This was new for me -- as third of eleven children, I was not accustomed to EVER arriving early.)
I entered on the ground floor, and my classroom was in room 311. I knew from my many visits to hospital maternity wards that this meant I had to somehow get to the third floor. There was no elevator in this building. I did manage to find a stairwell, but it bore an ominous sign: "FIRE EXIT / KEEP CLOSED AT ALL TIMES". No way was I touching that door.
I stood around and wondered what to do. The Forbidden Stairwell was my only route of ascent. Five minutes passed. Then ten. There was a vending machine nearby and I bought a bag of Karr's snack mix. I ate it one piece at a time: raisin, sunflower kernel, M&M, peanut. Meanwhile, the stairwell showed no sign of life.
The ten-minute bell rang and a flood of students trampled down the stairs and out the door. As the last one exited the stairwell, I darted in, being sure not to leave any prints behind me.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, my heart in my throat. I tried to make myself breathe. Surely this was OK... right? So many other violators. Why not walk in this counsel of the wicked, just this once? Why not climb this stairway of scoffers?
I reached the third floor. Another FIRE DOOR, again forbidden to open. I stood there a few more minutes, running possible scenarios through my head. No other students seemed to be coming, and lateness seemed even worse than whatever penalty there was for opening the door.
I seized the doorknob, turned it, darted through, and did my best to stroll down the hall to 311. I slid into a chair in the front row, took out my notebook and pencil, and tried to breathe like a normal, law-abiding citizen, one who hadn't just compromised his entire moral framework in order to make it to class on time.
You made my day. This is hilarious!
One of the unwritten rules of homeschoolers must be "Don't ever ask potentially dumb questions; instead, figure everything out for yourself" because I've felt trapped a time or two myself. It's as though those door signs are written in a foreign language, and I have to decode the meaning and then act like I understood all along. Society: the real life Escape Room of the homeschooler world.
No jazz hands needed…that’s for sure! The fact that you wrote and sang a song about hydropower had me laughing at my kitchen table. I also ended up at a science fair with a trifold poster. I also wondered how I ended up there. I researched the growth of mold in chocolate cupcakes, so whoever corralled me into the science fair at least recognized my aptitude for baking.
Elizabeth, I laughed so much with such delight; I just loved going on the ride of your science fair journey! I also got misty at the end. I'm inspired. Thank you!!