“Wisdom sings her own praises and is honored in God,
Before her own people she boasts;
in the assembly of the Most High she opens her mouth,
in the presence of his power she declares her worth.”
Sirach 24: 1-2

The quote is from the Lectionary for Mass and is sometimes used for the second Sunday after Christmas. It has a different tone from the Jerusalem Bible’s which more strongly recognizes Wisdom’s power and her stronger unity and relationship with God.

“She opens her mouth in the assembly of the Most High,
she glories in herself in the presence of the Mighty One;
‘I came forth from the mouth of the Most High,
and I covered the earth like mist.
I had my tent in the heights,
and my throne in a pillar of cloud.’”
Ecclesiasticus [also Sirach] 24: 2-4


How often we rely on the mothering power of Wisdom to get us through days that alternate between being frenetically stuffed with affairs and, then, empty as an upturned box. To be close to Wisdom is to be close to one who acts, who nurtures, who is close to God. It is also to be close to one who thinks of goodness and meditates on the needs of others.

There was time, this last week, to think about the breath of Wisdom and the breath of life as I sat with my dying Mother-in-law. She is the last of my children’s grandparents to die. I felt Time's softness settle as her hand, so strong and so busy for so many years, was puffy and still in my hand. It would, at times, give a gentle tightening as though to tell me she knew I was there. We were quiet together.

I will confess, I had come with papers to grade (since I have trouble disconnecting from work), and I tried to grade a few. In over two hours time, I finished one and one/half papers. Being present for Edith consumed my time. Her hands surprised me, for they were so different from what were hands.

Edith’s hands were strong. When I first met Edith, she had an ancient typewriter set against the dining room windows, there she typed notes and letters. She had an awl for punching tag board and other heavy papers and cardboards for mounting her various competition buttons. She sewed, gardened, baked, taught Latin and Greek. She was willing to speak on a number of subjects: her trips to Europe, Uniforms and uniform buttons, paper dolls and other antiques. Her voice and her hands were always in use.

As she grew into her late 90s, my husband reminded the children when they were going to visit, “hold her hand when you talk to her, she likes that.” And that became more and more true as her eyesight and hearing continued to fade. Holding Edith’s hand seemed to make communication so much clearer. Her hands continued to have a strong grip, and she continued to use her hands in the pottery class and doing other crafts. She was prolific in making things.

I accept my loss of my mother-in-law, and I think of my own mother’s voice that sometimes rests with the strength of memory’s hands on my ears. They were women of presence and action, strong grandmothers to my children.

I think of them as I think of the breath of Wisdom that moves like a mist, the song of Wisdom that boasts and declares her worth to be present before God. It is a daily resolution to live in the breath of life and strive for Wisdom.

The photograph shows Edith reviewing a book with her granddaughter Beth and great-grandson Shane. Edith died Jan 17th; two months shy of her 100th birthday.

"Do not lose courage, then,
if you feel inadequate and incapable
of doing what is expected of you."
-St. Angela Merici

I had a disagreement with a friend today, and I felt inadequate in explaining my opinion and uncomfortable in presenting the reason why I was choosing a specific course of action. My friend was disappointed in my decision. Even though I was certain of my rightness, I was so concerned I would offend that, for a few moments, I was tempted to acquiesce to my friend's wishes. I almost rescinded my decision. How wrong that would have been. For my momentary comfort in placating a friend, I might have opened myself, my friend, and others to harm.

Of course it is possible that my decision and actions are of no consequence and will cause neither joy nor sorrow; however, I cannot trust in being so insignificant, no matter how much it might be desired.

Strength and stubbornness are very different traits. I know that many times the trait people say I possess is only determined by the side of the table on which I am sitting. I can look into a mirror and judge myself. Can I look at the stars and see how God judges me?

Struggles

Please be patient with me as I learn how to use the electronic connections that are available to me. I do not want to overload my work time or present a ponderous presence to those reading what I write. I value time and words.

I am presently working on researching how illness affects a person’s life. I am starting with polio narratives because my mother was a quadriplegic from polio, but I am not limiting myself to only her story.

Peace to all explorers. Life is wondrous.

Light moves in waves, expressed
kisses tightly wrapped in a helix of stars,
nudged nuclear helices shone
in laser beams, unwrapping bright wisdom.

Love, universal as the water in one’s mouth,
never loses weight or size or essence,
the clear quality, the potent power, the tender touch
that caresses each writhing protein, each fume in space.

Silence is one of the necessary comforts. It is essential to clear thought and meditation, to feeling secure in a place. It allows for reading so complete that I can enter a new world. It invites invigorating ideas, and sometimes, it invites peaceful sleep. Silence should not be frightening. It does not wrap me in loneliness, quite the opposite; it leads me to the full awareness that I am not alone.

How frightening it is that so many people are plugged into noise so completely that they cannot hear God.

To have questioning faith is like having clay that is still soft and malleable.
It is frightening to think about molding a vessel that might crumble, that might shatter in the firing. A brick is secure and steady, but it doesn’t hold much.