The fog
comes

on little
cat feet.

It sits
looking

over harbor
and city

on silent
haunches

and then
moves on.

– Carl
Sandburg

//

In the long,
dark winter evenings, the older kids and I read our way through the Chronicles
of Narnia.  In them Aslan, the God-figure,
is a large lion.  As C.S. Lewis frequently
reminds his audience – Aslan is not tame. 

Aslan walks
silently on great, padded paws. 

He comes and
goes at will. 

He’s seen by
those who look for him.

Yet, often
when Aslan appears the youngest girl, Lucy, is quick to squeal with
delight.  She runs and buries her face in
the fur of his mane. 

//

Every morning
Blackie, our long-haired cat, waits impatiently to go outside.  Eager to investigate the yard, he pauses briefly
before the open door, then saunters out into the crisp early morning air.  An hour or two later a soft thud announces
his return as he leaps to the closed kitchen window, the one with the broken
screen.  There he waits, his fur coat
fluffed, green eyes blazing, a silent silhouette. 

Seeing me
see him, he meows.  The double-paned
glass mutes the sound, but I see his mouth stretch wide, his dagger-teeth flash. 

I slide the
window open and he pushes through the screen, fresh and cold from his morning
stroll. 

“Blackie!” I
cry, my hands slipping under and over, encircling him, lifting him to my
face.  I bury my nose in his fluffy mane.  I inhale the smell of the cool grassy fields
he wanders, the morning dew and earth.  It’s
a moment I never want to miss. 

This year, I listened beneath the hustle of the Christmas season, hoping to hear the silent padded
footsteps of Christ creeping in among us.  

There are so many ways to miss his coming.  

And yet, he comes again and again each year,
throughout the year.  Like the cat
leaping to the window, the fog sitting silently, Christ arrives opening us, always, to the fullness of what is.

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.

What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God? 

That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  

You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.  

While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.