Through the Eyes of Wisdom

Flattened by the unending brutality of life. “Curse God and die,” says the wife of Job (Job 2:9).

I get her.

But if life has taken away all but God and I curse Him, then what? With Peter, I’m inclined to say, “Lord, to whom shall we go?” (John 6:68)

I run blurry-eyed, tripping over my own feet, falling at His.

Oh, what Wisdom invented lament and called us to it. I cry out.

I feel certain I could learn whatever it is I’m supposed to learn a little less harshly, but maybe arrogance like that is precisely why it’s not true.

I need some of that wisdom.

Thankfully, she’s available to those who ask. That’s a promise. I ask.

At my invitation, Wisdom sits next to me and softly questions, “Is life ALL bad?”

“No,” I reluctantly admit.

Wisdom pushes a bit more but is gentle about it. She takes my hand, prompting the unveiling of my eyes and a recounting of the good. Graciously, she says one, then I say one. Back and forth, we continue this rhythm of praise for the beauty in the rubble:

Mountains. Imagining them formed by God’s hands or by His footprint as He peruses His creation.

Fireflies. Sparkling bug behinds. Enough said.

The wind. Displaying the mystery that something can be unseen yet real and powerful.

Love. Always stronger than the suffering.

Words. Bursting with meaning. It’s breathtaking that God would entrust us with something so potentially building or shredding. Interesting that Wisdom should bring this up, knowing nothing more in need of her than words.

Sun rays. A picture of glory. Always included in my imagining of heaven.

With each item placed at God’s feet with gratitude, bitter tears start to turn sweet and the altar I’ve fallen on raises me higher. It appears less like rubble and more like an offering.

Wisdom smiles as I crawl onto the altar. She tilts my head to meet the eyes of my Savior. My calloused heart softens when I see His has taken the beatings with mine. The love in those eyes is the stuff of real-life fairy tales, but mostly the depth of One who’s walked the brutality of life before and chooses to do so again with me.

He knows.

Wisdom knows.

For the moment, I know.

All will be well someday.

There is no deeper love to be found than this.

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Author: Karina Baker

Hello, my dear friends! Glad to see you here. Thank you for reading about my beautiful rubble - my struggles with life, faith, and autoimmunity. Feel free to share your stories in the comments. My love and prayers to all of you!

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