Wisdom Came to Visit

Wisdom came to visit today. She sat down at my table like an old friend, eyes dancing in merriment. I watched her laugh as she picked up her cup and remembered the first time I had seen her.

The first time I saw her from across the room and she seemed mysterious. Her smile reserved. Her form draped in rich colors. The light glinted off the deep brown crystal she wore at the end of a heavy gold chain. Wisdom was there and I was afraid to speak with her. I watched her from across the room. I saw how she spoke freely with others in the room. She spoke with them and their eyes danced with fire.

I began to look for her after that first encounter. The days stretched between us. I would catch glimpses of her in windows. She would laugh. I would hear little notes of happiness. How though would happiness come from such a creature as Wisdom?

Wisdom was angry and harsh. Wisdom required that one be disciplined. Wisdom was a hard master. Where did this laughter come from? Where did the fire I saw in the eyes of those she spoke to ignite?

I stayed and watched as she talked to others and laughed with them.  I saw Wisdom as she worked with people around me. I saw their eyes catch fire and their thoughts come quicker. I heard their words spark hope in others.

And then, Wisdom came to visit. We sat down at my table like old friends. She took her cup of coffee in her hands. Her fingers wrapped delicately against the brown ceramic. I saw that her hands are old but her nails are painted that perfect color, the color that speaks of safety and beauty and challenges.  Wisdom’s eyes speak love and compassion. They brim with tears at the suffering she sees. I thought there was anger and harshness in her eyes but in our quiet talk I heard none of that. There was only love in her voice. She spoke to peace to me. She spoke of comfort. She spoke and we laughed gently because even in the pain there was hope.

She whispered to me. She whispered that his purpose was not to die. His purpose was to glorify God-the same purpose we all have.  The gift of life that he gave was his gift, not his purpose.  Wisdom told me that God is good, all the time. That even when awful things happen, God is with us. She told me this and laughed, her eyes filled with tears.  We are all meant to give our gifts she said and her delicately manicured fingers wrapped tighter around the warm cup.

I breathed in the heat rising from my cup. I breathed in and watched as Wisdom stood quietly. She tilted her head and I was captivated by her beauty. Years fell away from her face and I saw her as a young woman.  I saw all the moments of exquisite delight fly across her face. I saw Wisdom in all her glory.

Wisdom is not harsh. Wisdom is not angry.  Wisdom ignites a love of discipline. Wisdom is found in laughter as often as she is found in tears. Wisdom dances through sorrow with slow measured steps. Then she turns and whirls through ecstasy.  Wisdom knows that time is fickle so she enjoys and endures as the moment requires.

Wisdom and I finished our coffee. We put the cups away. Wisdom looked back at me as she walked toward the door. I was struck again by her beauty. I remembered then her whispered words of hope and comfort. He did not come only to die. He came to live.