Don't Lose the "Wow Factor"!

I recently spent a cool evening at our old family place in the country. As I checked out the night sky, I was amazed to be able to see the Milky Way, a rare treat for this city person. As conversation ebbed and flowed we managed to identify the Big Dipper and the North Star which were the sum total of my companion’s knowledge about astronomy.

I am an amateur (very amateur) astronomer. I don’t even have a telescope – I just have a good set of binoculars. But over the years I have studied star charts and other astronomical literature and can find my way around the constellations pretty well.

Viewing that sparkling velvet canopy at night, I always feel very small, humbled by the vastness, yet at the same time, somehow very safe.

I once was invited to attend an astronomy party at a local college campus. Club enthusiasts had telescopes pointing skyward and trained on points of interest. We admired star clusters and the moons of Jupiter. Foreign-sounding names of stars and nebula rolled off their tongues. They knew their way around the heavens like I know my way around my home. As I stumbled back to my car in the dark, I was impressed with how much they knew and how much I didn’t. The contrast suddenly hit me. Id gone from awe and wonder to ignorance and inadequacy.

What had happened to my childhood sense of wonder? Could it be that children experience wonder because they don’t yet understand how their world works? I call this the “wow factor”. Waves on the seashore provide a fascinating playground until someone explains the rotation of the earth and the gravitational pull of the moon. Now I can predict when the tides go in and out and exactly how many hours I have to build a sandcastle. Handy information, but the wonder and adventure (the “wow”) have been jeopardized. Suddenly it makes seashore walks and sand art projects more calculating.

Ancient cultures worshipped the uncontrollable nature that existed around them – fire, wind, rain. We’re more sophisticated. We understand global weather patterns and can track severe weather, tornados and hurricanes. We don’t just admire birds in flight; we design and build jets that fly us coast to coast in a matter of hours. From the comfort of my couch I can tour the Earth and the heavens on an electronic screen. At the push of a button I can listen to a symphony orchestra or “read” a book while strolling along my park’s walking trail.

Progress? Undoubtedly. I’m thankful that we can improve and save lives via science and chemistry. But as we focus on details and reduce everything to its basic elements, I fear we too easily strip life of some of its mystery and wonder – the “wow factor”. How often do I allow myself to revel in the power of rain pounding on my home roof, to be enchanted by wind sculpting dancing motions in my trees or mesmerized by the flames of a late night campfire?

I never want to come to a point where I won’t see past scientific facts and figures and explanation to the astounding beauty that God has created all around me.

Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a sunset out back that’s begging to be admired. I’m not going to think about the rotation of the earth, water droplets in the clouds and air-borne dust particles refracting light.

I’m just going to enjoy the spectacle and allow God to WOW ME!

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