I was an introspective child. I don’t say that to pat myself on the back either. I’ve been socially awkward since the day I was born, and have lived 80% of my life in my head thus far. Because I was so recessive as a kid, I had a lot of time and space to think. That’s a good thing (it really helped out my creativity,) but it’s also not. Because a little kid’s imagination can run wild.
Sometimes I’d have trouble sleeping because I thought too much. When I was eight or nine, I was finally starting to understand God. I mean, in the way an eight or nine year old can. Not with much nuance, but I was beginning to understand that He created everything, and the stories in the Bible are true. I started to understand that Jesus had been a real person and not just a storybook character.
So I thought about that a lot. How could God not have a beginning or an ending? What would happen to me after I died? Would I just keep going on and on forever? Well, technically, yes. And that kind of shook my finite little mind. I can trace back my troubles with anxiety to those nights where I lay awake wondering about eternity and life. A nine-year-old contemplating reality.
It’s not an uncommon thing. Every man and woman eventually has to come to terms with his mortality. The thought still scares me, even though I know my hope is secured in Christ. The fear of the unknown is always going to scare mortal humans.
But what’s different now is I sometimes lose that childlike trust. When I was that age, I remember nights on vacation at the lake with my family where I’d just stare up at the stars, equal parts in awe and afraid of the unknown. I knew there was someone beyond the stars.
But that’s sometimes hard to remember when you get caught up in the mundaneness of everyday life. Where did that youthful energy and curiosity go? I’m a pretty straight-and-narrow adult – I work a literal 9-to-5, pay my bills, complain about gas prices but still buy Starbucks every day.
It pays to stop and look around every so often, even when life seems mundane and monotonous. It pays to go out of your way to do something different, and to just…wonder.
Day Twenty: Wonder – The Classic Crime
*Note: This song contains strong language.
How to Be Human is The Classic Crime’s third Kickstarter-funded album – talk about living on a prayer. And yes, we’ve already talked about The Classic Crime. But think of this as a more adult-y, mature Classic Crime. Between the release of Phoenix in 2012 and How to Be Human in 2017, Matt McDonald became a father three times over, recorded a handful of albums with his wife, and moved more than a few times. That’s a lot. He realized that as a father of young children, he had the responsibility to raise them to know what’s right and wrong.
But sometimes the world doesn’t feel exactly right and exactly wrong. Sometimes we get caught in the gray areas in between. Which is why McDonald wrote How to Be Human. It’s a journey of faith, discovery, and soul-searching. And “Wonder” comes as a turning point.
Wonder what I’ve got
Under doubt more than not
Wonder why I can’t
Amend my constitution
It’s the common prayer of someone who feels stuck. In a world of gray, what am I supposed to believe? Good people are sometimes bad, bad people are sometimes good. Situations are sometimes open-ended and ambiguous. Does anyone have the right answer? Is there one right answer?
Wonder who I am
Becoming a bad person
Wonder if I can
Find a good solution
I resonate this verse as the post-graduate product of Christian education. I love and am thankful for my background, but now I’m in “the real world” and I encounter people who don’t believe the things I do. And I’m not saturated in an environment of people who think the same way I do. It’s easy to wonder if I’m still living right.
Have I f—ed up my head
With all the books that I read
Was I too hungry for the truth to find you?
McDonald makes a blunt but equally poignant point. Is knowledge a burden when it comes to childlike faith? How are we supposed to have that kind of faith if we’re bogged down by different opinions by different writers and preachers and philosophers? Everyone seems to have their own opinion about God – which one is right?
Wonder why I lost my wonder
Why the ship is going under
Wonder why the wonder died in me
McDonald himself doesn’t even know what happened, but somewhere along the way, he started getting plagued by doubts. I don’t blame him. It’s not sinful to question and sometimes doubt, as long as it is paired with equal measures of trust.
And that seems to be where McDonald falls short. Knowledge can supplement an innocent faith. Returning to the real, raw word of God is what will bring us back to faith. Other books that might screw up our heads are still subject to God’s ultimate word.
Cuz I’m not the same
Are we just beggars all
Hanging on for a little piece of bread
That’s not coming around
And it’s been too long
Since I have tasted wine
Unspoiled by the ghosts inside my head
McDonald is making a clear allusion to Communion, where the church eats bread and drinks wine in remembrance of the crucifixion of Christ. McDonald asks if its truly the body of Christ we crave, and maybe we’re so marred by guilt that we’ll never taste His salvation. There have been times when I have partaken in Communion but felt unsure. Does Christ truly care about me that much, someone who exists thousands of years after Him, among billions of people throughout history, that He would care enough to die for me?
And I’ve seen good people die
While I’ve been barely alive
And I can’t live another minute
If I’m in it just to live a lie
I’m not sure here if McDonald means that the “lie” is the faith he’s had in his life, or if he needs to jumpstart his faith if he wants to live a meaningful life and not a lie. But I choose the latter. I don’t want to live a life that’s squandered by the mundane, but that’s punctuated by the loving-kindness of my Savior.
I don’t want my words to be empty, or my actions without purpose. And I certainly don’t want to lose my wonder. I want to contemplate eternity as I did when I was younger. I want to gaze up at the stars in awe, mouth agape.
And I want to live life fully alive.
a. w.
Audrey D. DeBoer 