I read philosophy. I go to lectures. I fill my mind with information about God, about faith, about how to live. And I thought that was enough. I thought if I knew enough, I would understand life. 💎

But wisdom is something different. Wisdom is when knowledge becomes lived experience. It's when you've suffered enough to understand what the words actually mean. It's the difference between reading about forgiveness in a book and actually forgiving someone who hurt you. Between knowing that God is merciful and feeling that mercy when you've failed yourself completely. Between understanding the concept of love and being broken open by it.

I'm realizing that I've been so focused on being knowledgeable—on having the right answers, understanding the theology correctly—that I've missed the point entirely. The desert fathers didn't accumulate knowledge. They sat in silence and let God transform them. They became wise not through learning but through prayer and suffering and showing up to their own lives honestly.

This is humbling because it means I have to admit how much I still don't understand. All my books and my education—they're just the beginning. The real learning happens in the quiet moments when I'm alone with myself and with God, and I have to face who I actually am versus who I pretend to be when I'm talking about theology. 🙏

The question I keep wrestling with is: Am I pursuing understanding so I can feel superior, or am I pursuing it because I genuinely want to know God? Because those two things feel very different, and I think wisdom only comes from the second one. 🕯️