Wisdom in prayer

By Beryl Baterina

The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins By Blake
(Wikimedia Commons).

"This kind can only come out through prayer.” 

Wisdom is God's gift and we can enhance this gift by learning and sharing it.  We can learn more from school, other people, and experiences.  We can share it by means of teaching, encouraging, or inspiring others.  Having the gift of wisdom does not give us the authority to be arrogant about it.  We must be humble and be grateful to the Lord for this gift.

We may excel in our daily jobs or activities but these are all because of God.  We must not be proud and arrogant thinking that it is because of our hardwork that we were able to achieve who we are today.  It is a blessing from God.  We must thank God for all the graces given to us.  And this is praying.  We  must learn to pray that we may be able to properly use these gifts from God.  Everything around us is wonderful and we must see the goodness in them.  We must have this habit of praying to God that we may use all the creation according to His plan.  Without prayer, these great gifts will not be useful to us.    


Continue reading at Beryl's blog Beryl Baterina.

Cold Courts

By Cynthia Scodova

When peaceful silence lay over all,

and night had run the half of her swift course,

down from the heavens, from the royal throne, leapt your all-powerful Word;

into the heart of a doomed land the stern warrior leapt.

Carrying your unambiguous command like a sharp sword,

he stood, and filled the universe with death;

he touched the sky, yet trod the earth.

                                                                   Wisdom 18:14-16

                                                                                                                 Google Images

                                            The cold courts 
                                                          of the fields
                                                   curl in 
                                              on themselves
                                                          beneath designs 
                                                   of cloud
                                              falling
                                                           through
                                                    this time of 
                                              grey
                                                           clawing
                                                     branches 
                                              against
                                                           the dimming sky
                                                    of my heart
                                              where I don’t feel you 
                                                          anymore
                                                   but the 
                                              bitterly  
                                                          breezes
                                                   over me
                                              through these
                                                        lonely courts  
                                                   of the fields
                                              closing in 
                                                          this
                                                   time of 
                                              grey 
                                                          clawing 
                                                   branches
                                              against 
                                                          shuffling
                                                   ghosts
                                              of prayer.


Cynthia writes at The Mad-Eyed Monk.