If boredom is the mother of invention, then time and emptiness might just be the parents of wonder. Yesterday, I had the most amazing conversation with my 10 year-old. We talked about life after death. We talked about a new heavens and a new earth and what growth might look like when time is a memory. We talked about joy that isn’t tempered by tears or sin or sickness. It was one of those conversations that leaves you electrified. But here’s the thing: it bloomed in the emptiness. It bloomed where there wasn’t the distraction of entertainment. It bloomed with the gift of unfilled time. If we want more moments punctuated with wonder in our lives, we need to leave room for it. We need time that isn’t crowded with activity. We need minds that aren’t too busy being entertained. We need to be bereft to blossom.