"Epiphanies cannot be scheduled, but they can be invited."

I'm teaching from a chapter in Writing to Change the World that talks about "orchestrating moments" to experience awe and realize the hope and beauty of the world. At their root, I think of these moments as worship and connection to God where I'm growing as a person.

I begin to think of how I might invite epiphanies--those spiritual and emotional breakthroughs--that foster real change.

Last week, I watched the way my daughter sat outside alone in the snow as the sun set behind the trees. As I finished dinner preparations, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, how she fell back into the snow and just stared up into the sky. She stayed that way for a long time. She closed her eyes and the snowflakes fell on her cheeks. As the darkness settled onto the backyard, she remained there, just thinking.

Stillness in nature, solitude, and quiet allow for a special kind of reflection into the life of things. Most of my life-changing moments have come in natural settings, when I'm alone, and when I'm finally listening. Although I can't schedule epiphanies, I can invite them.

I'm not sure what my daughter thought about in the snow, but I know that when I was a little girl staring up into a snow-filled sky, I began my education in wonder.