Monday, May 14, 1917 – Wisdom
May lifted her pen from the page and her eyes from looking at her desk. She quickly scanned her classroom of students who were applying themselves diligently to the spelling test she had handed them moments before. She smirked. When May had been a student she had not realized tests were as much for the teachers as they were for the classroom. Silence is a beautiful thing.
Taking advantage of this rare reprieve, she took a moment to consider the events of the past weekend. The parade had been wonderful, although she was not sure if she would have felt the same if she had not spent it with Richie. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but his imperfections only attracted her to him more. One example was his overly talkative nature; that was all the better for May as she preferred listening anyway. Their conversations that day had felt so natural, so normal that it was startling. In a good way, of course.
I’ve noticed that I rarely pray for wisdom when events go awry. Usually in a difficult time I know what I lack: faith, patience, submission, or something else like that. Yet when my path is dry and sunny my plea is wisdom without fail. I wonder why?
“God will grant you what you request, but it usually isn’t in the way you think, just to remind you that He’s God and you’re not,” her grandfather used to say. “When you realize you need faith, God requires that you believe He will give it. When you realize you need patience, God will see if you’re willing to wait on Him for it. When you realize you need to know how to pray… (Read more)