Little Wisdoms

On an unusually warm afternoon, my father and I sat down outside our apartment in China. We were watching the sun go down when my father spoke up out of the blue and said, “Sharon, listen. The more you learn, the more you need to be like the rice stalk. As the rice stalk matures, it bows its head humbly toward the ground.”

As an intelligent child who memorized textbooks in one sitting and once set a grave on fire out of curiosity, my father confessed that he struggled with pride as an adult. He wanted to spare his daughter from the inner turmoil of pride constantly fighting against God’s higher calling to walk humbly before Him.

However, the apple sometimes does fall far from the tree, because my teachers and peers thought of me as “a bit slow” and socially awkward. Unlike my dad, I did not act on my curiosities, had a terrible working memory, was terrified of taking risks, and always had my head in the clouds, conjuring up fantasies.

So when he admonished me to be more humble the more I learned, I couldn’t relate to what he said. But now, as an adult, I’m beginning to understand what he meant. Being humble and wise are intricately connected—humility is the hidden key you need to unlock the gate of wisdom. I discovered this while reading the book of Proverbs with my two-year-old daughter.

Every morning, at the breakfast table, I read my daughter one chapter from Proverbs and one Psalm. We began with Proverbs, chapter one.

“Hear, my [daughter], your father’s instruction, and forsake not your mother’s teaching… Wisdom cries aloud in the street: ‘How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple..and fools hate knowledge? If you turn at my reproof, behold, I will pour out my spirit to you; I will make my words known to you.’”

“Oooh, I love this,” I cried excitedly. “Do you know what wisdom is?”

“What is it?” my daughter asked, equally excited.

“Wisdom is being able to make the right choices,” I responded, thinking of Dr. Tim Keller’s sermon series on wisdom. “When your friend takes a toy from your hand, you have the choice to scream and demand it back, or ask nicely. What do you think is the right choice?”

“To ask nicely,” she said.

“That’s wisdom! And do you know who gives us wisdom?”

“Who?” she asked.

“God! God gives us wisdom. And we must want it more than anything else—more than snacks and toys!”

“Okay!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

With my two hands open, I asked, “So if God says to you, should I give you wisdom or a yummy snack? What do you say?”

“Wisdom!”

“What do you say?!” I asked louder, pointing an imaginary microphone at her.

“WISDOM!”

Oh, the faith of a child. What a delight it is to teach one so humble and open to obeying. I think that’s what my father meant. When Wisdom cries aloud to come, we must give up our pride and receive the spirit of wisdom like a child.

At first, I wanted to raise a daughter who is opinionated, in the best sense—one who can ask thoughtful questions, gather information, and come to her conclusion about things like life and death, good and evil, fate and free will.

Now, I want to raise my daughter to be humble and teachable, always learning and re-learning. One who isn’t “tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine” (Ephesians 4:14). Instead, I want to raise my child to be humble, upright, and “grow up in every way into Christ.” (4:15).

He has told you, O man, what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)

p.s. My little one choosing Wisdom over Snacks is a big deal because she loves food. Here she is, about to devour a bowl of yogurt on her own in Seville, Spain.