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How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers! But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night.
Psalm 1:1-2
The morning light peeked into my window and woke me earlier than usual. I gingerly tiptoed out of our bedroom and tried to close the door as noiselessly as possible, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. I filled the electric kettle with fresh water and turned on the switch, then rummaged through drawers, where I finally found a box with one match left so I could light two small candles. Somehow when I establish a serene, adult atmosphere, my heart aligns with the surroundings.
I sat down in the chair I’d bought years before, where countless sacred hours of life-changing proportions had been celebrated. I always kept a basketful of books next to my chair, so that I could feed my mind with devotional thoughts of writers from various places and times. My beloved, worn, red-leather Bible was in the basket, too, along with a couple of favorite journals where I recorded what I was learning and feel- ing, what Scripture I was praying, and any thoughts that came to mind.
Just as I was preparing this blog, I received a text message from my daughter, Joy.
Mama, I wrote a blog post about you today. It is from me to you, from my heart to yours. Hope you like it.
There is an image in my mind which was planted in the earliest dawn of my memory, and which I hope will remain with me into the twilight of old age. It is of my mother reading her Bible. She sits enthroned on her overstuffed blue chair, ensconced in a soft red bath robe, bathed in the cool light of morning. A cup of coffee sends writhing wisps of steam into the air from its precarious perch on the arm of her chair. Her Bible lies open on her lap, the well-loved pages threatening to make a desperate bid for freedom from the sagging binding. She reads, she prays, she smiles at me as I patter into her quotidian sanctuary.
From a young age, I knew that when I thirsted for wisdom, I could go to my mother because her well was deep, dug over many years of patiently pouring over Scripture. This early lesson has been an important one for me as I have sought to live wisely myself. Our world is famished for wisdom, hungry in the depths of our souls. While the price of information is very low these days, proffered through every search engine and flickering phone screen, the price of wisdom is high. Three women have taught me how to search for wisdom: my mother, and Lady Wisdom and Lady Folly from the book of Proverbs. These three have taught me that if I want the kind of wisdom that nourishes and satisfies the soul, I must first be willing to put in the necessary preparation. I must invest deeply in Scripture. When we do, we’ll be nourished by the feast of wisdom there—and be able to offer it to others.
As I began yet another time of study, I was vitally aware of the legacy of these morning times. I had invested literally thousands of hours at the feet of my greatest professor and teacher, Jesus. His words had made the difference between a wasted life and one focused strategically on the issues of eternity. This time was where I received His strength, wisdom, and direction for all the moments of my life—as a woman, wife, mom, daughter, and believer—here Christ had met me daily, shown me His path and His ways, and assured me of His constant companionship.
And Joy finished her article with this:
I return to the memory of my mother in her blue armchair. In my little girl heart, I knew something significant happened in those early mornings. As an adult I understand the power of my mother’s ritual. If we want to be worthy to call out to fools at the city gate, we must first be willing to sit every morning in a blue arm chair searching the pages of Scripture with an attentive heart. The silence of a chosen quiet time may feel strange in contrast to the raucous discord of the world, whose voices are always contending for who can seem most clever and relevant. But the richness of this silence will not disappoint. My mother quietly cultivated a heart of wisdom, rooted in Scripture, and purified through prayer. Like Lady Wisdom, she was preparing a feast, ready to welcome the foolish and those who wanted to be wise, calling them in to a well laid table and a satisfying feast of wisdom.
Here is the rest of the article: The Feast of Lady Wisdom
Are there any changes you need to make in your life to ensure that you have time to study God’s Word?
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