[Wisdom] was there at the dawn of creation; she played and danced as the world unfolded. She is very good at amusing herself while the rest of us are busy debating so very seriously and arguing so hurtfully. She will weep while we tear each other to shreds, and then she will help tend the wounded on all sides. She will bite her tongue and refrain from calling us all the names we have called one another. She has a special place in her heart for fools; they will find a seat at her table and will eat of the feast and drink of the wine she has prepared.
I think of her now and then, imagine her biding her time with a cup of tea as she looks out her window or walking down a dusty road with a small child or appearing in a fevered dream that will not be remembered but will only leave the dreamer with the sense of having been visited. She is fierce
but gracious; she will not force her way into our midst, but, once invited, will accompany us as tenaciously as a mother bear does her cub.
She will wait outside the city gates as long as it takes, as long as the arguments over her rage, as long as brave souls hazard conversations with her through chinks in the city wall, as long as there are those who risk breathing her name. And when she returns, she will bring with her the others who were outcast, who were lost, who were expelled because of the way they looked or how they acted or what they believed or whom they loved. When she returns, she will bring them dancing into the city, singing in the streets, celebrating in the most sacred places because she has returned, she and those who loved her without even knowing her name all through her long, long exile from home.

Jan Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path

Jan Richardson is an artist, writer, and ordained minister in the United Methodist Church. She serves as director of The Wellspring Studio, LLC, and makes her home in Florida.