The decorations come down, the calendar turns, and Christmas recedes into memory—but Matthew 2 insists there’s something that doesn’t go out of season. And if the Gospel doesn’t go out of season, are we keeping ourselves focused on where it is pointing us?
All that anticipation, all that preparation—and then it amounts to nothing. Do you ever feel like your life is like that? That’s exactly where Ecclesiastes begins, with a preacher who achieved everything a person could want and still found his toil was vanity, a striving after wind.
We want God’s wisdom, yet often what we really want is an advantage—something that makes us look right, strong, and worthy of respect. In James 3:13–17, wisdom from above takes a startlingly different shape: meek conduct, mercy, gentleness, and a willingness to be taught. What does that wisdom ask of us as we wait for Jesus to return?
We all load our suitcases for life with what the world promises will make us wise—predictions, solutions, human answers—yet when Revelation calls for wisdom to understand the beast, it’s asking something far more unsettling: whose wisdom are we actually following?
