Don’t Waste Your Wisdom on a Brick Wall (Proverbs 23:9)

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that settles in after you’ve spent twenty minutes explaining something perfectly reasonable to someone who responds as if you just suggested they try seasoning their coffee with motor oil. You know the feeling. Your words were clear. Your logic was sound. And yet the other person stares back at you with the blank confidence of a man who has never once been wrong in his entire life.

Solomon saw this coming three thousand years ago. In Proverbs 23:9 he offers one of the most merciful pieces of advice in all of Scripture: “Do not speak in the hearing of a fool, for he will despise the good sense of your words.”

In other words, stop throwing your carefully prepared pearls into a blender set to “puree.”

Wisdom Isn’t for Everyone’s Ears

The book of Proverbs is not shy about fools. A fool, in biblical terms, is not merely someone who lacks information. A fool is someone who has already decided that wisdom is optional. He has closed the door, locked it, and then nailed a “Do Not Disturb” sign over the keyhole for good measure. Trying to reason with him is like trying to teach a cat algebra. The cat isn’t impressed, and you end up looking slightly ridiculous.

Jesus Himself echoed the same principle when He warned, “Do not throw your pearls before pigs” (Matthew 7:6). It’s not that the pearls aren’t valuable. It’s that some creatures will only trample them—and then turn on you for the trouble.

This is not a call to arrogance or spiritual superiority. It’s a call to stewardship. Your words, your time, and your emotional energy are gifts from God. He never asked you to pour them into soil that has already declared itself infertile.

A Little Humor Helps the Medicine Go Down

Let’s be honest: most of us have played the part of the hopeful gardener more times than we care to admit. We’ve stayed up late drafting the perfect text. We’ve rehearsed the gentle, Spirit-led conversation in the shower. We’ve entered the discussion armed with Bible verses, personal stories, and the earnest belief that this time it will land.

And then the other person replies with something like, “Yeah, but my uncle once knew a guy…” and the entire conversation collapses into a black hole of irrelevance.

At that moment, Proverbs 23:9 is less a stern warning and more a kind older brother putting a hand on your shoulder and saying, “Buddy… walk away. The pizza’s getting cold.”

Practical Application for Real Life

So how do we live this out without becoming cold or unloving?

  1. Pause and discern. Before you launch into a passionate explanation, ask a quiet question: “Is this person actually open, or am I just hoping they will be?” Openness often shows itself in questions, soft eyes, or a willingness to say “I don’t know.” Hostility, mockery, or endless deflection are usually signs that the door is shut.
  2. Protect your peace. You are not obligated to attend every argument you are invited to. Sometimes the most Christlike thing you can do is smile, change the subject, or simply leave the group chat on mute. Silence is not defeat; it is often wisdom wearing work boots.
  3. Keep praying, keep living. Refusing to argue does not mean you stop caring. Continue to pray for the person. Continue to live with quiet integrity. Seeds can still grow when the gardener isn’t standing over them shouting instructions. God is remarkably good at working in the places where our words have been refused.
  4. Save the good stuff for hungry hearts. There are people who will listen—friends who lean in, coworkers who ask honest questions, children who still believe adults might know something. Pour your energy there. The harvest is better when the soil is ready.

Proverbs 23:9 is not permission to write people off forever. Hearts can soften. Fools can become wise. But until that happens, you are free to stop bruising your knuckles against a locked door.

So the next time you feel the familiar urge to explain one more time, take a breath, remember Solomon’s advice, and go find someone who actually wants to hear it. Your wisdom is precious. Treat it that way.

And if all else fails, there’s always pizza.

A Sheep Saunters Into 2 Peter 1:3-4

His Divine Power

“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.”
—2 Peter 1:3–4 (ESV)

Dear friend in Christ,

Join with me today as we contemplate God’s Word while sipping a soothing Ginger Honey Herbal tea or your favorite beverage. Let His Word soothe your soul as we look at the wonderful plan our Awesome Savior has for us.

There are days when the Christian life feels like trying to climb a steep mountain with empty hands. We want to live godly lives, yet we sense our own poverty of strength, wisdom, and desire. Into that exact place the apostle Peter speaks these astonishing words. He does not begin with a list of duties. He begins with a gift.

Peter tells us that God’s own divine power has already granted us everything we need for life and godliness. The verb is perfect tense—something completed in the past with ongoing results. The moment we came to know Jesus Christ, heaven’s storehouse was opened. Nothing essential is missing. The power that raised Jesus from the dead, the power that spoke galaxies into existence, is the same power that now supplies every spiritual need of the believer.

How does this power reach us? Not through mystical experiences or heroic self-effort, but “through the knowledge of him who called us.” The word Peter uses is epignōsis—a deep, personal, relational knowledge. It is the knowledge that grows as we walk with the One who first called us “by his own glory and excellence.” God did not call us because we were impressive. He called us by the sheer beauty of His own character. His glory and moral excellence are both the reason He reached for us and the means by which He keeps reaching us.

Through that same glory and excellence, Peter continues, God has given us “precious and very great promises.” These are not vague wishes; they are the concrete assurances of Scripture—promises of forgiveness, presence, strength, future glory, and final transformation. And the purpose of those promises is breathtaking: “so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature.

Partakers of the divine nature. Not that we become little gods, but that we are drawn into the very life of God Himself—sharing His holiness, His love, His steadfastness, His joy. The early church fathers called this theosis: being remade in the likeness of the One we behold. And notice the accompanying truth: we partake of that divine nature only after (and because) we have “escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.” The gospel does not leave us half-rescued. It delivers us from the rotting influence of a world bent by lust, and then ushers us into participation in God’s own pure life.

This is the warm heart of the passage. You are not asked to manufacture godliness out of your own thin resources. You are invited to receive what has already been granted, to know the One who called you, to cling to His promises, and to discover that in Christ you are being made a sharer in the very life of God.

My dear ones, let these truths settle over you like morning light. The same divine power that created the universe is at work in you today. The same Jesus who called you still holds out His precious promises. And the destination is not merely survival or moral improvement—it is intimate participation in the life of God Himself.

Personal Reflection Questions

  1. Where in my life right now do I feel most keenly the lack of strength or desire for godliness? How does Peter’s declaration that “His divine power has granted to us all things” speak to that specific place?
  2. What does “the knowledge of him who called us” look like in my daily rhythms? Am I cultivating a deeper personal acquaintance with Jesus, or am I mostly relying on second-hand information about Him?
  3. Which of God’s “precious and very great promises” do I most need to hold tightly today? Can I name one promise from Scripture and deliberately lean my weight upon it this week?
  4. In what concrete ways am I still tasting the “corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire”? What would it look like to walk more fully in the escape Christ has already provided?
  5. If it is true that God intends me to become a partaker of His divine nature, how does that change the way I view my struggles, my relationships, and my future?

May the God of all grace, who has already given you everything you need in Christ, draw you deeper into the knowledge of Himself this day. Amen.

Remember that you are deeply and dearly loved by Our Wonderful Savior

The Dish Dipping Dilemma

There’s a special kind of humor in the book of Proverbs—God’s ancient wisdom literature that somehow manages to roast human foibles with the precision of a master comedian and the tenderness of a loving Father. Take Proverbs 19:24: “The sluggard buries his hand in the dish and will not even bring it back to his mouth.”

Picture it with me. Dinner is served. The plate (or the shared Middle Eastern dish of the day) sits right there. Our friend the sluggard has already mustered the Herculean effort of reaching in. His hand is submerged in the good stuff—maybe some warm stew, fresh bread, or whatever the ancient equivalent of comfort food was. And then… nothing. The hand stays put. The mouth waits. The stomach growls in protest. It’s the biblical version of staring at the remote control from across the room and deciding the universe can just keep the channel where it is.

I laugh every time I read it. Not because laziness is funny in itself, but because the image is so gloriously over-the-top. Scripture doesn’t say the sluggard is merely slow or a bit tired. No—he’s so committed to inertia that he won’t complete the final, most rewarding part of the process: actually feeding himself. It’s laziness turned into performance art.

From a Christian perspective, this verse isn’t just a witty jab at couch potatoes. It’s a gentle but firm reminder that God designed us for fruitful engagement with the world He made. Work, effort, and the simple act of “bringing the hand back to the mouth” are part of how we image our Creator—the One who didn’t rest until the work of creation was complete and “very good.” Laziness isn’t neutral; it quietly starves us of the good gifts God intends. It can starve our bodies, yes, but more dangerously it starves our relationships, our spiritual growth, our callings, and our joy.

Jesus Himself modeled the opposite. He rose early to pray. He walked dusty roads. He touched the untouchable, taught the crowds, and ultimately poured Himself out completely. The apostle Paul later wrote that if anyone is unwilling to work, he shouldn’t eat (2 Thessalonians 3:10)—not as a harsh rule, but as a call to the dignity and provision God builds into responsible living. Grace doesn’t cancel effort; it empowers it. The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead lives in us and enables us to do the next right thing, even when our flesh would rather leave the hand in the dish.

A Practical Application for Ordinary Days

So how do we keep from becoming the person whose hand is stuck in the metaphorical bowl? Here’s a simple, grace-filled starting place:

Pick one small “hand-to-mouth” action you’ve been avoiding and complete it today—no heroic overhaul required. It might be answering that email you’ve opened three times, putting the clean laundry away instead of living out of the basket, opening your Bible for five focused minutes instead of scrolling, or actually placing the healthy meal on your plate and eating it instead of grazing mindlessly later. Set a tiny timer if needed. Pray a short prayer: “Lord, help me finish what I’ve started.” Then do it.

Celebrate the small win. Thank God for the strength He supplied. Notice how even that modest follow-through often creates momentum for the next thing. Over time, those finished motions train our hearts away from the sluggard’s paralysis and toward the freedom of faithful stewardship.

God isn’t asking for perfection or endless hustle. He’s inviting us out of the absurd comedy of half-finished living and into the quiet satisfaction of receiving the good He’s already placed within reach. So go ahead—lift that hand. Taste and see that the Lord is good. The dish is waiting, and so is the joy.

A Sheep Saunters Into 2 Peter 1:1-2

A Precious Faith

2 Peter 1:1-2
Simon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ,
To those who through the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ have received a faith as precious as ours:
Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.

My Dear Friends,

There’s something tender about the way Peter begins this letter. He doesn’t open with titles of authority or reminders of his own dramatic story—walking on water, denying Jesus, being restored on the beach. He simply calls himself “a servant and apostle.” That word servant (or bond-slave) always slows me down. It reminds me that even the rock on which Christ built His church never outgrew the posture of belonging completely to Jesus.

And then he turns to us. He writes to people who have received “a faith as precious as ours.” Not a lesser faith. Not a second-hand version. The same priceless gift, given through the same righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ. I love that equality. On days when I feel my faith is small or shaky, Peter’s words reassure me: the value of our faith is not measured by how strong we feel, but by the One who gave it.

Then comes the blessing that feels like a warm hand on the shoulder: “Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.” Notice the pathway. Grace and peace don’t arrive through striving harder or fixing ourselves. They multiply as we come to know Him more deeply—His character, His heart, His finished work. I’ve found that the seasons when I linger longest with Jesus, simply knowing Him, are the seasons when peace quietly expands in places I didn’t even realize were crowded with worry.

This is not distant theology. It is an invitation to keep drawing near. The more we know Him, the more grace and peace settle into the ordinary corners of our days.

Practical Response Questions

  1. Where in your life right now do you most need grace and peace to “be yours in abundance”? Pause and name it before the Lord.
  2. What is one simple way you can grow in the knowledge of Jesus this week—perhaps lingering longer in a Gospel story, or talking with Him honestly about something you’ve been holding back?
  3. Peter calls our shared faith “precious.” How might remembering the equal preciousness of every believer’s faith change the way you view someone whose walk with Christ looks different from yours?

Remember, as you sip your morning coffee or late evening tea, that you are deeply loved by God. Linger in communication with Him. Let His warmth soothe your soul and strengthen you for the days ahead. We are pilgrims together, sheep following our Great and Loving Shepherd.

Until next time…