When I was in my early teens a good friend sat me down and asked what I most wanted from God. After a few moments of deep thought I responded, "I want God to give me wisdom"—imagining that I would wake up the next morning with new found insight. Of course, it didn't happen that way.
Still, when I think back to my friend's query I sometimes half-wish I could have my response retracted. I believe my reply somehow set in motion a journey toward knowing more of the Lord's heart—a journey that would take the rest of my life. I realize now that to have a measure of wisdom concerning life means having to pay the price to get it! I now know I have to experience and endure the process which nurtures the faith seeds that will eventually sprout up to become glorious discernment. The problem with all of this is that it can take excruciatingly long years to accomplish. Alas, knowing the timely nurturing effects of manure on our plantings doesn't necessarily improve on the stink of it. It's conceivable that we may have to live with the smell of our failures in order to gain wisdom concerning them.
This morning I was imagining how neat it would be to have a wisdom "thing-a-ma-switch". A thing-a-ma-switch that I could throw whenever I needed to find enlightenment. When an issue arose that needed quick smarts I would simply flick open my options, choose the appropriate solution, and be on my way. The downside of my thing-a-ma-switch, I realize, is that I would most assuredly choose the easiest solution every time. The option, which causes me the least amount of disruption, discomfort, expense, heartbreak, embarrassment, or delay, would undoubtedly be the one I would choose.
I'm grateful that there is no real thing-a-ma-switch, for it would truly be to my demise. As much as I hate enduring the unknown, I know now there is no better way to gain access into the infinite wisdom of God than finding it down the less desirable, unmapped roads of life.
