Day 3697 of the 7 day Bible verse challenge.

Proverbs 18:15 NIV

So turn mine eyes.

For I know they’re not mine as is a Word won within the wisdom I’ve not as yet. Simply because wisdom waits through wonder as if to ponder the purpose of the often denied distance between wish and wellness. Because sadly we’ve all come to see life as but a wishing well and God the bucket from whom we seek to assume our every pursuit proven as prize-laden as our petty pride might always prefer. But contrary to our common consensus as His being just endless in terms of meeting our desires, no, He is rather the Father who seeks always instead to inspire us unto the hunt for what hope really is.

Because it’s not nearly as close as any of us may often wish it were.

In fact to think such a thing as hope or healing or happiness to be held close enough for us to see them before we feel them is to betray them the fullness in which we should insist them. Alas fullness demands a fervor willing to fight for every last morsel of every such more as all that better that all of us can still always be. For last I checked, which was just this morning within a dream, there isn’t any of us perfect in really any manner life. Not in terms of how we walk, what’s said when we talk, that fact that says we scarcely listen to any human other than they looking back in the mirror nearer.

No, we’ve at that a great many lessons of life left still to learn. Problem then being that they’re often only those left to become lost as we look on toward what we see in that intrepid confusion that is our delight in delusion as defined by our looking for everything and yet still seeing somehow so little as to inspire us again come tomorrow to take up this failed hunt once more.

What are we looking for and is not that we’ve yet to find it not unto us evident that it’s but the evidence of something perhaps either unneeded or simply misunderstood?

Seems as though that’s what wisdom is writing within my every step taken into what’s always been the up ahead that I’ve lived somewhat afraid of finding. Which is actually quite the confused happening, is it not? That we can somehow be so adamant upon progression’s path proving us better in the future but still all but terrified as to the path proving otherwise. How can we be so selfishly assured but also scantly able to show any evidence of such confidence when faced with the days for which we’ve lived in dream?

Is it wise to work so hard for our every said desire as designed inside those visions of the night, or even the day anymore for who are people with eyes wide shut seeking the slumber of something close enough to prove unable to fail? Yes, anymore it feels as if our every dream is for a thing entirely easy enough to not scare us to death. Guess that’s simply because we’re still scared of death and thus delight to find any dream that ask not we die in fear of perhaps it failing or rather us failing it.

For the latter is the matter measured for more common, isn’t it?

That we set our sights upon this novel something we come to assume we want before inevitably insisting it rather a vital need? Yes, we do this very bidding nearly every morning in the planning for a path through this new that leads only always to our finding of everything for which we’ve dreamt. And while this may perhaps prove pretty harmless upon the common, that it’s become so common as for our to allow it to include such growths as wisdom and the discernment which is here said to be its preamble is perhaps where a great many problems are produced.

For truth is that something so wonderful as wisdom or deep as the discernment through which it’s both found and too through which from there it leads, no, these are things that we cannot plan, cannot purchase, cannot in truth even prove. Rather they are matters that we might forever only pursue. And that simply because for us to imagine some ending to them as defined by the time in which we’ve found their full is to fool ourselves into believing ourselves somehow able to master the winds that both must always be.

And they must blow so constantly ahead as they’re both but betterment not fit for something such as a deathbed nor those all of us for whom said rest awaits.

So then what are we waiting for?

Where are we waiting toward? Whom are aching more to be than whoever this is that we’ve clearly always been? Is there something so wonderful as said degree of better for you and me? Or rather are we already of such immense and intense understanding that we can truly plumb the deepest depths of wisdom or learning or its love of losing the fear of looking for something that’s never been ours to find in full?

Yes, do we think ourselves already so full of knowledge that we just can’t fit anymore, or rather are we just anymore only afraid of learning to love the learning of the matters of life that have always mattered more than all we’ve long thought mattered most?

Alas it seems the last is the case for most. And that mostly because we all want to appear unto all the rest as those who too can rest from having to look for, feel for, fight toward what’s still their best. No, we ache to show every day that we’re in every way those who’ve already everything by which to boast of this better we’ve become. We want the world to hang upon our every tale told in that now tarnished triviality of a life already spent to wisdom and back. Yes, we live as if to let the world know that we alone are the way.

It’s just that whole ‘to where’ part that seems to unravel at even the slightest asking.

And make no mistake, as discussed a bit yesterday, there will be asking. There will be questions. They will be answered. And yet it’s this understanding that seems to most a mostly missed opportunity to spend this time trying to learn at the then obvious expense of thinking we already know. For such is what wisdom wants, to learn. To grow. To know more today about what matters than we thought mattered yesterday in what’s now a day gone, and too with it nearly everything we tried to prove important.

Is this wisdom? To so spend our lives looking for something to make us look wise that we never ourselves decide upon the delight that is designed in discernment alone? Do we even know what discernment is or why its importance remains so eternally unquestioned? Do we not see in that the stark contrast to the questions we still ask in light of our life lived trying to avoid those that will be asked of us when this life is proven far less ours than we’ve longed to make it look?

For discernment is a gift as it gives us the opportunity to determine what matters most, alongside then the ability to deny our attention all that matters less if not at all. It’s in that perhaps something of a measuring as meted upon all of life’s matters, a person deciding alone this personal hierarchy of hope and hardship. And yet, it’s also something that we would be wise to not so assume only a matter of our own personal measure as, again, we’re not the only ones who will be asking the questions.

Rather there’s another who Himself might have a wonder or two as to whatever it is that we come to do with this life as lived either growing in the knowing of both who He is in light of what He’s done or rather the latter matter of measuring said mercy as mostly unimportant in light of our fight to find something of which we’re far more able to glean vain glory. For such is what we seek, or at least what all have sought.

Guess then discernment the difference that declines to so determine anything much at all having embraced the fall rather than the faith which claims He came to save us from such a crash that none of life could last.

Which is perhaps the point of it all anyway.

That this life is but a collision course, with truth of course. For the reality of reality is that we really have no way at all of avoiding our part in the fall nor then the answers we’ll be asked to give for why we lived doing what was common amongst man. Rather we’re all on a shared trajectory with the brutality of honesty that will prove we’ve honestly no words with which to convey what our hearts know we don’t know how to say.

Such as how we’ve at times thought Him so unworthy our attention that we simply deemed Him nonexistent. Or how we’ve at others, probably the same as those just defined, thought ourselves of such understanding that we couldn’t seem to see the many misunderstandings still standing in our way of our finding that better that we all know we still aren’t. Or how we can somehow fail to know that we’re not the best we can be despite our still looking for something better every single day.

Yeah, you’d think that one would be the one that would finally click, that reality in which we think ourselves perfect already and yet spend every day still looking for some way by which to improve.

Only the intrepidly illogical can fail to see the logical fallacy inside such a blatantly missed monopoly.

Alas, as those who think themselves wise, well, we’re too the same as they who’ve left little chance of ever finding the fullness of the real thing. Because those who live as if they know everything will prove the same as they who leave a lot unlearned in light of their assuming it already understood. And yet my friends, how on earth can we possibly understand fully a life we’ve not lived in full? And if we think we have, well then what of truth?

For there’s no mistaking nor then misunderstanding that the truth does indeed set us fully freed. And thus any lie or other dishonesty still alive and living within our eyes, ears, hearts or minds is but a line we’ve not yet crossed over which a furthered freedom is found. And so if we’ve not even found freedom in full despite our delight to do always only as we alone please, well then there just might be a few more things that discernment’s not been thus far allowed to help us with.

It’s just that those who think themselves wise because of whatever they see before their eyes are to be proven the same as those many who miss the narrow in exchange for the lack of change upon the wide and easy. For truly, no, there’s little about faith that comes at us in such ease as that afforded us upon that way of life we’ve already lived. For indeed, such things as self-control and too the humility that knows we’re terrible at it, they’re mattered made quite miserable at times.

Because all of us know well that desire to do things such as chase dreams or buy things, or buy into lies about things that we simply don’t want to know the truth about, because of said truth only setting us free to see just how far short we’ve fallen of the only glory that’ll get us through those gates. No, we know mostly only that we’re afraid to see His face, the same as those who asked Moses to go alone to talk with this God they knew far too big, and likely then quite mad.

Is it wise to do that? To entrust our outcomes to another who is but a human like we? Or at this point are we even human at all anymore? For humans grow. Humans learn. Humans love, or at least love the thought of imagining that we can. But can we? Can we love without some untainted version of what love is? Can we know what wisdom should be without some unchanging exemplar by which to compare what we only slowly learn it isn’t? Can we understand what understanding is without He who understands who we are and leads us away from there?

Can we agree to be so led if we’re left among those so wise in their own eyes to assume that they’ve just too much to lose having found this apparent fount of human potential only inside themselves and their lives as they sit?

Is it wise to sit so still as to still think that we’re steel, unable to fail, resistant to the very corrosion that our pasts have already perfectly proven?

Doesn’t seem like it.

Because our pasts found us not at all like Him who came to save us from what our today still says we are more often than not. Which isn’t wise but rather lost in want. Nor are we hopeful but rather haughty enough to assume hope inside the held. Nor then can we be happy as we apparently assume joy only in the enjoyment of our every desire. And then nor can we be humble as humility doesn’t so determine its worth upon what are only personal wantings. And nor then can we be we wise as still we want only what will be lost.

It’s quite the collapsing calliope, this ring around the rosy refusal to admit that we’re all but ashes who’ve already so well fallen that we’ve then no reason at all to stay where we are as held fast to the ground which grinds instead of straining to find that rarified faith that simply insists that life shouldn’t ever stay like this. For if this is as good as it gets, and we’ve then no intent of actually becoming anything better, well then we truly have had our reward.

Who knew it’d be so angry all the time?

No, this life isn’t what I want. That’s not to say that appreciate it I don’t. No, just that what I’ve done to it and what we see others doing to their share of it, it’s entirely too hopeless and heartbreaking to be the true culmination of anything. I just can’t imagine that God would so design something to so decline in value as to leave us all left lost looking for a better that’s only ever found upon this ground into which we’ll one day be planted.

I want a different harvest than just dreams that have by then died with me.

And no, that’s not wise to imagine, at least in the world’s opinion. For this world believes wisdom is something to be won before we leave. And thus it’s both to and through all the worthless that we so often seek. Yes, we live as if our best is here hidden, most of us thinking it close enough to waiting inside of us. But I just can’t comprehend how the best I can be as proven already in the little I’ve done of which I’m proud as measured against the more that I’m most certainly not is to be then the same as the one who from there manages to find something so elusive as my every mistake has already proven wisdom to be.

Yes, it seems that I’m finally learning that wisdom is more a journey than a destination. And too that it’s one taken in the growth of knowledge, despite such bringing about more grief. Indeed, perhaps wisdom itself is something quite grieving as it’s said here to be gained through the gaining of knowledge from the discerning. But what’s the difference then between knowledge and wisdom? Are not both looked for by those who know them not found then?

And does this not make them impossibilities for those who think them found?

I too have lived my life as if what I knew was what was to prove most important. But perhaps wisdom is proven rather in the humble learning of all we’ve yet to know. Something like why Jesus saved me as known because of what He knew I could be. For surely this isn’t it, no, I still make far too many mistakes for that to be the case!

Must then be something else, something more. And thus too I guess I’ve more to become. And thus too more to learn. And thus too more to discern.

And so perhaps wisdom is still waiting for us. But why then are we waiting for it?

#LeaveNoSoulUntold