Always more mystery

A close-up of one of the flowers in the picture I posted last week.
No matter how often I see them, they fill me with wonder.

“The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.”Anais Nin

One of my favorite people in this blog community frequently wishes me “a wonder-filled week.” I love it! The word wonderful is used so often that we tend to miss its root meaning, so I find her revision of the term an apposite way to wish someone the best. I think one of the nicest things we can wish each other is a wonder-filled week, or year, or life.

Nin is right; no matter how much we know, there are always more mysteries to wonder about. The daffodils that have been my lifelong favorite flower are a familiar sight, as I’ve planted so many of them over the years. But I never cease to be amazed at their delicate structure and sunny colors. Botanists can tell us all sorts of details of taxonomy, propagation and genetic modification, but those words never capture the pure delight of seeing these blooms appear every spring.

In a totally different corner of my world, I’m amazed by the advances in cardiology since Matt was born. Nearly 34 years ago, he was diagnosed with a complex heart defect that he likely would not have survived if he had been born a decade or so earlier. Through five open heart surgeries and counting, I’ve been stunned at what the doctors are able to do. Their procedures continue to evolve, rising to the challenge of Matt’s formidable cardiac anomalies in ways that are fascinating and encouraging.

This amazing wireless home monitor sends data from Matt’s pacemaker to his doctors, giving them a minute-by-minute account of how his heart has been doing.

Yet beyond all the scientific sophistication of their equipment and methodology, there is the abiding mystery of how they, and Matt himself, can remain so indefatigable and compassionate in the face of very difficult circumstances. In the midst of sorrow at all he has suffered, and the stress of wondering what lies ahead, there is the consoling experience of being filled with wonder at the divine blessings that come to us through the hands and hearts of people who know what to do, and more importantly, who genuinely care for him– and me.

All of us live in a wonder-filled world of manifold mystery. What are some of your favorite everyday wonders?

This post was first published seven years ago today. Since then, in 2023, Matthew endured his most formidable challenge yet, requiring his lengthiest open heart surgery. The doctors had warned me that this surgery would be so risky that they would never undertake it unless they were left no choice; not to do it would mean certain death, as compared to possible or even likely death. Yet Matthew pulled through– albeit with the longest recovery ever, including weeks on end of round-the-clock infusions at home– but the emotional turmoil was balanced by appreciation that we have not– so far– encountered a problem for which there was no solution, however risky.

The blog is not designed for viewing on cell phones, but you can get a less distorted version of the photos if you click on the “view on blog” link at the top right of the screen. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, at the individual post views. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.

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