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Time to Wander

Time to Wander

Walking, looking for 

Answers, wherever they may be

Noticing a leaf falling from the tree

Dancing towards the ground

Everywhere I look, wherever I go

Reveling in the holiness


How often do you get the chance to simply wander? 


To open your eyes to the beauty of the sun’s rays on the grass, the water rippling on the lake, the vibrant blue of a butterfly wing. To open your ears to the sound of waves crashing on the beach, the gentle hum of crickets and insects at night, and the laughter of children at the park. To reach your hands across the dew-covered grass, to feel the roughness of the bench where you sit, and the warmth of a mug of coffee. To smell the remaining embers of a campfire, the richness of mulch and soil mixed together, and the soft scent of someone’s perfume. 

How often do you get the chance to simply wander?

To hop in the car, top down, cruising the winding country roads. To sift through books at the library turning page after page. To walk in the park with your kids’ watching for ants crawling on sticks and squirrels running up trees. To take the dog for a walk and stop and smell every bench and tree along the way. To wander city streets and watch the passing of cars and pedestrians. To stroll through the garden noticing the different shades of color on a flower. To sit and breathe deeply opening the depths of your soul. 


How often do you wander and see what’s before your eyes?   


Some nights after the kids are asleep and the dishes have been put away, I grab the dog and his leash and take a walk. By this time it’s usually dark with the stars beginning to brighten the night sky. The street lights provide enough light to guide my way around the town streets. Peering into the darkness I see our town – the homes of friends, the toys scattered on the lawn, cars driving to and from work and home, cats slinking through the night. If I’m quiet, I can hear my breath and the sound of my feet on the sidewalk. With each step I let myself wander a bit more, focusing on my breath, the dog’s presence beside me, and the gentle stirrings of the night. 


The wandering of city streets at night gives my heart a chance to wander, too. To listen for the prayers that are rising up and the hopes waiting to meet the light. My nighttime walking awakens something in my spirit as one foot goes in front of the other. It calls me to attention. It directs me to the voice of the One who always walks with me. I keep walking and listening for that still, small voice.  


I return home and slide the leash off the dog’s neck watching him bolt to the front door. He’s wandered enough. I, however, am just getting started and eager for the next time when I remind myself to slow down, take a deep breath, and see what’s right in front of my eyes. 


Kimberly Knowle-Zeller is an ordained ELCA pastor, mother of two, and spouse of an ELCA pastor. She lives with her family in Cole Camp, MO. You can read more at her website or follow her work on Facebook.  



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