This is where true wisdom lives. Bending my knee in awe at the mouth of an empty tomb.

This is where it was born.

This is where true wisdom thrives. Jumping up in praise, to radiate joy from the manifestation of overflowing love, the Lord’s living heart beating in mine.

This is where it will multiple.

Wisdom discerns when mourning is good and when sorrow is beautiful.

Wisdom discerns what sacrifices are necessary and good.

Wisdom discerns what hard-to-swallow acts are gifts nonetheless.

Wisdom discerns who is most worthy of worship.

Wisdom discerns how to balance requests and thanksgivings.

Wisdom discerns what it means for each person to honor God from the heart with our own gifting, through our own personality.

Wisdom discerns the presence of true treasures and true worth.

Wisdom discerns where true priorities should be placed and held.

Wisdom discerns where true allegiance lies.

Wisdom discerns where our true position is in relation to Christ’s greatness…and His goodness.

Yes, I am behind in my regular postings. Urgent and unexpected surgery threw off a number of regular things in life this month.

Yes, it is June and not December. Yet, when I think of wisdom, I automatically think of the Magi and their response to the birth of Jesus Christ.

Yes, we are not sure there were exactly three Magi and the famous song “We Three Kings” written to remember their roles is not to be as revered as Scripture. Still, there is beauty and truth there, in the verses of that hymn.

When I think of the concept of wisdom, a very important synonym for me is discernment. Looking back on the nativity accounts and the words of “We Three Kings” leads me to recall some simple truths about discernment for those of us who want to embrace God’s way.

Thus, I will allow those truths to inspire four pieces of word art, to be created and posted each day through the rest of this week, to round out this month’s spotlight on wisdom.

Please return to view them. And I pray even now each will bless you. 💜

As a Protestant, I strongly believe that anyone who follows Jesus Christ as his/her Lord automatically becomes a “saint” within God’s economy. Some people may behave in very good ways, but no one is automatically holier than someone else based solely on what they do, and all of us are equally lost and broken, in need of grace.

And all of us have many opportunities to show patience. And all of us need equally infinite amounts of patience from God and others throughout our lives.

All that said, I do enjoy reading about saints from the past in the Catholic tradition. While they were only human, the things they learned from God can serve as helpful lessons and reminders to us all.

Today, I was reading about St. Frances de Sales. I found some details of his life intriguing, but I will choose not to focus on those so much as on a few of his words. At one point, he said, “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them–every day, begin the task anew.” And when asked by others how true patience could really be achieved, he pointed frequently back to Christ. He would say, “When it is our lot to suffer pain, trials, or ill-treatment, let us turn our eyes upon what our Lord suffered, which will instantly render our sufferings sweet and supportable.”

I could expound a little or a great deal on those two quotations, but I think today I will just choose to let them strike the reader as they might and share a song which these words remind me of. See below.

Be blessed, my friends, as you walk on and daily meet opportunities for building patience.

It’s truly ironic when the person who becomes a “poster child” for something was the exact opposite of that trait, behavior, or thing at another point in life. And sometimes people who think they don’t possess a trait actually do display it more than they are aware.

Starting in on a new month with another profile, this week’s figure may not have been particularly noted for his patience, especially in his earlier years. He was a perfectionist and legalistic at every turn. And his zeal to make sure others did what he thought was “right” led him to become an informant, a bounty hunter, and an accomplice to murder.

That was before he received his new name. One day, in a brilliant and blinding encounter, he went from being called Saul to being called Paul, a name that means small or humble. Temporarily unable to see, he was led to a safe place and nursed and healed. And after that, his life took on a whole new meaning, a whole new approach.

He was still very zealous about what he believed — in the other direction. But that encounter and the days which followed it had changed him forever. In some ways, he gained a softer touch and a deeper level of understanding towards others. He would go on to write many things about patience, both directly and indirectly. But perhaps the most famous of all those was in his attribute-laden definition of love which started right off the bat with, “Love is patient…”

What did he mean by that, saying real love was patient? I don’t think that he meant love should turn us into spineless pushovers or force us to let others treat us in dangerous or heartless ways.

But Paul had himself looked into the Face of patience when Jesus shook up his life and Paul could finally see how merciful God had been to him…even as Paul (then-Saul) had been running around killing God’s own children.

True patience reflecting true love does not need to reflect weakness. On the contrary, it is born out of a place of great strength. Strength in faith that someone can truly change with time and support. And strength in hope that the pain of the past can be forgiven and a fresh start for the future will be brighter when it finally arrives at the right time.

And these things are truly found in and truly sustained by the Savior Paul knew and loved so well for the rest of his days.

When I was getting ready to start this year-long virtue series months ago, I asked friends and acquaintances to nominate others (whether famous or not) as suggestions for these brief profiles. Of the responses I received, one made immediate and complete sense. When I think of virtuous women I have known, she stands tall among them in my memory.

But most of what I recall of her is based on memories from before the second grade. Could I recall enough to write fully about her? And could I recall her accurately enough to offer a fair picture to my readers?

To confirm my own impressions (or add to them or correct as needed), I reached out to the source of the nomination, a most beautiful and beloved woman I affectionately call Tutu (the Hawaiian term for grandmother). About a month ago, Tutu finally wrote to share her further thoughts with me, and the timing could not have been more perfect. For I was just starting this month’s new theme. And Tutu’s very insightful notes helped me not only see how accurate my young memory had been, but also some other aspects of the nominated lady I was too young to understand and then later recall fully.

Please allow me today, then, to introduce you to an angel in skin named Ethel Harris. In that tightknit farming community, she was rightfully respected by all and affectionately called “Aunt Ethel” by a number of folks, whether they were related to her or not.

She was the first Sunday School teacher I ever had, during my toddler-preschool years, a time when I needed a very special love she gave as naturally as the air she breathed. She was something like a female Fred Rogers, and she treated each of us tiny souls with all the respect, attention, and grace she felt should be afforded to any human being. But as children are so often overlooked, dismissed, or misunderstood by adults, Ethel took it upon herself to give us extra attention and care. And it wasn’t buttery or pretentious. She spoke with us in a way we could understand, but still with sincerity, respect, and great intelligence. She felt called at every turn to model the teaching of Jesus that the littlest children should know His love and never be harmed or led astray from knowing His heart. When I was with her, every single moment as a child and also when I visited her again years later, before her passing, I felt loved about as unconditionally as I have ever felt loved by another person.

These are the things I reflected on in my own experience. But then I received Tutu’s letter.

While Tutu did confirm those things I remembered, she expounded further on Aunt Ethel’s deep and genuine humility, her fervent prayer practices for others, and her tireless generosity. And while she especially loved and prayed for the children, she had a heart of love for everyone. In Tutu’s notes, for example, I learned for the first time that Ethel also spent countless hours writing letters to prisoners to let them know they too were loved and never forgotten.

What strikes me most as I review the life of this one dear woman today? I think it is that sincerity is simply and truly seen when an authentic and loving person will choose to turn face-first to the world and shine a light from their deepest heart on others. A light that only God can put there. And a light that shines purest in the absence of fear.

I know Aunt Ethel prayed for me. I am one of so many in her still-living legacy. I could not be more sincerely honored to think about this. And I so sincerely want to live the rest of my life following her example.

Sometimes a person is naturally sincere, so that what they do and who they are spring up, like two intertwined vines from the same root, out of their core being. There is no pretense.

And sometimes a person possesses all of the potential they need to learn how to live genuinely and care genuinely for others, but their aim, passion, or outlook remains unrefined, misguided.

This month, we will look at a couple examples of each. This week, we will start with the latter.

He was a young fisherman and a younger brother who had a local reputation for his quick temper. Perhaps we can excuse at least a part of his impetuous attitude and selfishness with stereotypical thoughts of male egotism and youthful naivete.

That is a snapshot of who he was.

But then, he started hanging out with another guy, a teacher who was teaching a new way of thinking in a new style. And hanging out with that teacher for several years began an amazing transformation in the young fisherman.

He would walk and talk with the teacher, and serve alongside him. He would witness wonders and be humbled nearly beyond bearing. He would be present during several of the most iconic moments of human history. And he would be the one given charge to care for the teacher’s mother when the teacher first passed away and then later flew away into Heaven.

His name was John, son of Zebedee. And his was a life beautifully transformed.

While I certainly believe that the love and truth of Jesus had the greatest effect on him overall, and I wholeheartedly believe that Mary was only a common person with no divine power of her own, I can’t help but wonder how much of John’s sincerity was shaped by Jesus himself and how much of it was influenced or enhanced by John’s time of caring for Mary. Certainly the combination of the two fed a spring of goodness already somewhere present in John’s heart. And it led him to become a channel through which so much of God’s goodness would be expounded to us.

How many people have come to know the love of Jesus personally though John’s carefully and sublimely written gospel? How many people have come to understand a deeper meaning of love through John’s epistles? How many people have read with wonder of the power of God’s love as described in John’s revelation?

Before becoming the only apostle to die at a natural old age, he endured a time of prisoner’s exile. And though St. Paul has often received much more attention for the breadth and depth of his writings and his work, today I celebrate the life and the quiet, faithful sincerity of John.

The art posted with these thoughts is a royalty-free image I found online. When I see it, I think of John and smile. Love lifted him up above himself to see a wider view and to bless so many. And love was what he lifted up to Heaven and out to the world as an offering in return.

And that, my friends, is a most true and sweet essence of sincerity.

So many of us cry out for justice to truly be blind and for social equality and goodness to prevail.

But where does it start?

It starts in each heart, with each one who would practice the second greatest commandment: to love neighbor with the same care one would show one’s self.

Today, instead of profiling one specific person, I simply want to let Ms. Keller’s beautiful words stir our souls. And I want to quietly commend everyone who chooses to do what is good and right for another person, no matter if their just or good acts will ever be widely know.

Let us press on to love and to uphold the welfare of each other.