My son, keep your father's commands
and do not forsake your mother's teaching.
Bind them upon your heart forever;
fasten them around your neck.
When you walk, they will guide you;
when you sleep, they will watch over you;
when you awake, they will speak to you.
For these commands are a lamp,
this teaching is a light,
and the corrections of discipline
are the way to life...
Sometimes it makes me smile.
Sometimes is makes me reconsider.
What I hear coming from my children.
The scripts they recite in response to events in their lives.
Sometimes it's cute.
Sometimes it's funny.
And sometimes it's defeating, a line of drivel repeated from a favorite show or a sassy remark.
Can't imagine where they get it from.
Probably their mother.
Those phrases that we recite, that sit ready on the tongue. 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going." "Easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar." "No fair!" "Snap!"
All at the ready because of repetition, habit, belief.
We spend much of our childhood days reciting math facts, memorizing dates and historical figures, cramming a poem or two into our heads for good measure. We rate intelligence on one's ability to quickly recite litanies and liturgies of literature, periodic tables and physics equations.
But what of wisdom?
What of truth?
And what of the eternal?
Am I practicing those lines? Am I committing those treasures to memory? Am I preparing myself and my children with the sayings and proverbs, the lines of acumen that truly equip and arm for the battles of life?
Or am I still stuck back at "Snap"?