Familiarity and Wonder

“When we are in awe and wonder of something, we want nothing more than to look at it. It mesmerizes us. Because here’s the truth: wonder leads to worship. And familiarity robs us of our wonder.”

There is a road which is familiar to me. It causes a lot of other drivers to slow down when they first travel it. They see every curve and hill. But I know every curve; I know when to brace for every bump. I drive these roads almost without thinking and somehow wind up where I’m going. The familiarity means I don’t even have to think. And this is a little scary.

 

Then there’s the smell of our home. When we first moved in after building, I was hit with that new house smell every time I walked through the door. I even refrained from using scented plug-ins because I wanted to preserve that smell for as long as possible. But now, I can’t smell it anymore. It’s so familiar, I no longer notice it.

 

Familiarity is a gift. It means we’re comfortable. It can feel like security. It makes us feel known.

 

But familiarity can make us stop seeing.

 

It can be a beautiful thing to feel familiar with God. It can mean that we intimately know Him, His character, His goodness. Until it means we stop noticing. Until we stop seeing Him. Until we stop thinking. This happens with Christmas—with the birth of Jesus.

 

Every year, we place nativity sets in our homes to serve as a reminder of the first Advent—of the coming of our Messiah. They’re beautiful. But in my own home, I often forget to pause and look at it. I forget to stop and remember and see. It becomes a decorative fixture instead.

 

Familiarity with the coming of Christ makes no sense. How can we stop seeing the truth that our God stepped down from heaven and into human skin to bridge the gap between us and Him? How does the beautiful truth that God became man get reduced to a season? How do we lose the awe and wonder of Immanuel—God with us?

 

When we are in awe and wonder of something, we want nothing more than to look at it. It mesmerizes us. Because here’s the truth: wonder leads to worship. And familiarity robs us of our wonder.

 

So this Christmas, how can we stay in wonder of the One who came to us?

 

1.     Look at your focus.

I am the first to admit how much I love this season—the lights, the trees, the ornaments made by my kids, the music. And there have been many times when these things took up more space in my heart than the celebration of Jesus’s birth. It felt innocent. But really, it’s so far from it. I had to reassess my attention and affection. I had to adjust my gaze back onto Jesus. Enjoy the magic that comes with this time of the year, but don’t let it rob you of the wonder God deserves.

 

2.     Set aside time each day to dwell on Jesus.

One way to do this is using an Advent devotional. There are some amazing ones out there that help you center your heart and mind on the Savior each day. It’s one of my favorite things to do this time of the year. Reading the account of Jesus’s birth in the Gospels is another way to remind yourself of the real reason we have to celebrate.

 

3.     Worship the Savior

Spend some time worshipping Jesus. Pull up the lyrics to some of the Christmas songs you sing each year. Really look at those lyrics written across the years—words overflowing from a sense of wonder at the birth of our Savior. Spend some soaking them in.

 

I don’t want to become so familiar with Christmas that I stop seeing Immanuel. I don’t ever want to get over what God did and how He came to me—to you. Wonder leads to worship. Not just during Christmas. Everyday. Wonder makes us stop. It causes us to look—to really see. To ask questions. Let your heart pause there. Look at the nativity and see. See your Savior, God in flesh, born to free you.

 

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When Light Shattered the Silence

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Our Golden Calves