For everything there is a season. Wise words of King Solomon. Wisdom Woman reflected on his words at the beginning of every year and the end. And though it had been many centuries since the words were first penned and even longer since they were first vocalized, Wisdom reacted to them as though she were experiencing the very genesis of the idea.
“What a wonderful man…left to sail the seas of despair.” She said out loud to no one in particular.
There were few humans with whom Wisdom felt a kindred spirit. The lived experiences left little to no overlap. Their limited lifespans kept them from developing the kind of perspective that she could begin to wrestle with. Even the most extreme of circumstances appeared somewhat petty to her. That was a struggle she constantly visited upon the Almighty. Of all the things she understood of His ways, there were countless more that she didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, would never understand. And one of those chief mysteries was how the Almighty’s love was never compromised for creatures who seemed so…small.
Solomon did not seem small. Perhaps it is because he could have asked for anything. And he was remembered for requesting the one thing humans invested great effort in avoiding…wisdom. Among their kind was someone who got it, how indispensable it was, how priceless it was. Wisdom was created for that very purpose. She reminisced on the conversation with the Almighty when He asked her to part with some of her essence for the sake of Solomon. She was happy to oblige if for no other reason than the sheer surprise that this was a human’s request. She watched Solomon with great interest after that. And her favorite contribution of his was Ecclesiastes chapter 3.
“For everything there is a season.” Wisdom said out loud.
She sat in her office waiting for her next client. She had done this for so long that she could not remember when she started doing it. But it had to be relatively recently since she was adhering to the roman calendar. It had been a long day listening to story after story, declaration after declaration, goal after goal. Everyone was thrilled to tell her all about their ambitions for the new year, how much further they would be in twelve months’ time.
“I’ll have that corner office.”
“I’m getting my license this year.”
“This is my last cigarette.”
“I’m going to apologize to my dad.”
All that and many more. Which always stirred bittersweet emotions in Wisdom’s heart. On the one hand, most of the goals she had the pleasure of listening to were appropriate and necessary. On the other hand, the bulk of them were doomed to fail. Whether it was due to a lack of discipline, an absence of understanding the nature of the problem, a secret desire not to change at all, or a refusal to accept humility, most of the people she spoke to would be back in one year’s time talking about trying again.
There was very little to complain about. Trying, failing and trying again was part of the human experience. Still, Wisdom couldn’t help but think of the countless parents she met, voicing their sadness that their child, who was clearly struggling with an easily solvable problem if they just knew a little more or had lived a little longer, would not ask for help. She had taken an innumerable amount of her own grievances to the Almighty. And on the rare occasion where doubt crept in about His ability to solve her problem, or care to do so, she was quickly shown how foolish it was to even entertain such a thought.
Over the years she had listened to all manner of self-discovered solutions. A shaman, round trip around the world, mediums, various medications, yoga, self-help books, therapy, drugs and many more. And while some of those things were useful tools, what she understood to be pieces of a puzzle, her clients usually viewed these methods as the whole puzzle itself. She could write a book exclusively covering the personal irritation fueled transcriptions of men and women trying to crack the proverbial code. What was the right combination of tools to create a fool proof strategy to accomplish any goal? Her answer was seldom the wrong combination, but rather the missing piece. Until all the pieces were accounted for, trying to figure out how they fit together was a fruitless undertaking.
“If they want to attempt to move a carriage without the aid of horses, let them,” the angel Samuel said to her once after a particularly futile intervention with a young man tired of his rebellious spirit. Somehow, Wisdom had met a being who had even less patience for humankind than she did. That saying always stuck with her though, quite amusing if she was honest with herself.
“If you want to attempt to move a carriage without the aid of horses, be my guest,” she once said to a pastor who was struggling to develop the spiritual competency of his congregation while exclusively preaching new age gospel.
Her interactions with Samuel were one of the crucial pieces to developing her evolving view of humankind. His impatience was an indictment on her own. And she could feel it every time her gut instinct was a check a decidedly cruel thing he said about them.
Solomon gained his wisdom by asking for it. But for most, the price for this inestimable jewel was time, scarce in its supply and nonrefundable. In the vast majority of cases, the way to get them to grow was to wait. Her very nature called for patience, and at times she tarried alone with the Almighty to face the truth of how little she possessed. Like the humans, every year come January, she set the same goal…grow in patience. Not for the sake of herself, but for the sake of the people who required an unworldly amount of it.
“Where, Father, do you find the patience?” She asked after hearing for the twenty-seventh time that this would be the year someone would go back to school.
The days changed, the years changed, the eras changed. But the nature of humankind did not change. Her conversations did not change. There was always another person foolishly thinking they would will themselves to the next level. There was another person lost in self-pity for having fallen short of their goals. There was always another person who was certain they had become enlightened, even though like clockwork, they would have another undoubtedly opposite revelation in six months. It seemed useless to hope for anything more.
To grow in knowledge was to grow in despair. Solomon understood this. The day Wisdom read those words, she felt like she understood why the Almighty loved them so deeply, so endlessly. Not because of what they mostly were, but because of what a small few of them would be. There were people who would begin to grasp the depths of spiritual enlightenment, and credit the right being in response. That there was even one who understood meant there could and would be more.
Wisdom knew that most of these people would abandon their resolutions. She knew that most people would die with nothing but regret for all the things they wished they had done, or not done. She knew that January would come and go this year and the next and the one after that. And she would continue to hope for their success, knowing that most of them would fail. She would continue to allow herself to be disappointed, because it meant that she still had expectations of them, the way the Almighty did. She knew most of them would fall short of every goal they ever set, but she knew that a small few of them would not. A small few of them would face the end of their lives with no regrets, having resolved to be better. And she shared a commonality in most of their defeats, perhaps she shared a commonality in a few of their victories.
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