Watching at the Door

Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not disregard it. Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. For those who find me find life and receive favor from the Lord. But those who fail to find me harm themselves; all who hate me love death.” Proverbs 8:33-36

The news of the company merger landed like a meteor, and the layoff list that followed was the shockwave. On it were two names, side by side: Danilo and Gilson. Both with more than fifteen years at the company, both at the peak of their careers, both with families and mortgages. Both, in the blink of an eye, unemployed.

That night, Gilson’s house was filled with the sounds of death. Not physical death, but the death of hope.

“It’s over!” he yelled at his wife, who tried to calm him. “Years of dedication thrown in the trash! They betrayed me! I hate this company; I hate this city!”

He spent the night drinking, cursing his luck, sinking into a pit of self-pity and rage. He hated the counsel that told him to be calm, to trust. To him, wisdom was a bad joke in the face of life’s brutality.

At Danilo’s house, the silence was also heavy, but it was not the silence of despair. It was the silence of pain being processed in prayer. He hugged his wife, he cried, he allowed himself to feel the weight of the blow. But in the midst of his anguish, he made a choice. He decided to “watch daily at wisdom’s doors.”

The next morning, while Gilson was still asleep, drowned in his hangover of bitterness, Danilo rose before the sun. He had no office to go to, but he created a new routine. He spent the first hour of the day reading the Bible and praying, not asking for a miraculous job, but asking for clarity, strength, and direction. He was, metaphorically, waiting at the gate for Wisdom’s entrance.

Gilson spent the following weeks immersed in his own violated soul. He rejected calls from friends, spent his days in pajamas, watching news programs that only fed his anger at the world. He became a fountain of bitterness, and his family began to distance themselves from the toxic cloud he had become. He loved the death of his own spirit.

Danilo, on the other hand, began to act. He updated his résumé. He made a list of all his skills. He called his contacts, not to complain, but to ask for advice and referrals. He enrolled in an online course to learn a new programming language. He was watching, attentive to opportunities. He did not know where help would come from, but he kept himself ready at the door.

The difference became clear in a job interview. Gilson finally got one, but his bitterness overflowed. He spoke ill of his former company, complained about the economy, and projected the energy of a victim. He did not get the job.

Danilo also faced rejections. But in every interview, he spoke of his years at the company with gratitude for what he had learned. He spoke of the future with a cautious but genuine optimism. He did not deny the difficulty of the situation, but his identity was not defined by it.

Two months later, Danilo received an offer. It was not for the same position or with the same salary as before. It was a new beginning, at a smaller company, but with a culture he admired. It was a door.

As he told his wife the news, he felt a deep joy. He had found life. Not because he had found a new job, but because, in the process, he had found a resilience he did not know he possessed. He had found peace in the midst of uncertainty. He had found the Lord’s favor, not in the form of a life without problems, but in the form of strength to get through them.

One day, he ran into Gilson at the supermarket. Gilson looked older, worn down.

“I heard about your new job,” Gilson said, with a hint of envy. “You’ve always been luckier than me.”

Danilo looked at his former colleague with compassion.

“It wasn’t luck, Gilson,” he said gently. “We were both hit by the same storm. The only difference is that, in the darkness, I decided to keep watching, waiting for the morning light. You, unfortunately, decided to close the door.”

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Job’s Justification

Job was going through great affliction,

The pains were so many that his heart was dying.

Some friends came to cry with him,

For many days they did not say anything.

 

After crying and being silent, Job pronounced,

The day that he was born, he cursed.

For him, there was no sense living in that way,

He thought it was better to have his last living day.

 

Something pleasant, their friends tried to say,

They tried to justify their friend’s pains.

But they could not calm down the spirit of Job.

Job spoke that he would justify himself before God.

 

Those who were with Job tried to exhort him,

But affliction did not allow him to consider anything.

Job thought that God had come to punish him,

And there will be no end to his suffering.

 

The Lord came to speak after that argumentation,

God came to hear Job’s justification.

He said that before Him there is no vindication,

God’s designs cannot be explained.

The only thing left for humans is to accept them.

 

Job’s wisdom and knowledge, the Lord questioned,

He did not reply and humiliated himself in the powder.

Job admitted that God’s will was not clear to him,

And the plans of God were not comprehended by him.

 

God ordered them to sacrifice,

They would do atonement for their lives.

Job’s affliction was eliminated by the Lord,

The wealth that Job had was doubled by God.

After that, for many days, Job lived,

Old and full of richness, he has died.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume V.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/m0JKpA

Rest and Sin

“Not today, but tomorrow I’ll do everything,

A little rest, then, I’ll be ready for this.

Don’t hurry up, you don’t need to get concerned,

Tomorrow or later, everything will be executed.”

 

There is a serious sin in these words,

They are creating gaps to escape from work.

Those sayings exude procrastination,

They poison the mind with a sweet illusion.

 

The body is assaulted by laziness,

Working in a permanent state of slowness.

The mind gets happy about this condition,

They think this is a favorable situation.

 

The procrastinator’s life is being thrown away,

They are wasting each one of their days.

Negating the great gifts they received,

Rejecting everything that God has conceded.

 

God gave them a spectacular mind,

Infinite imaginations they can find.

The Lord gave them a majestic body,

The perfect complement for their mind.

The procrastinator dishonors their Creator,

They despise the Lord's plan and effort.

This person lives without reverence,

Acting complete and utter negligence.

 

The need for change is urgent and undeniable,

The person needs to be responsible.

Fleeing from laziness and procrastination,

Hugging the effort and dedication.

 

God will forgive and reward them,

The sources of blessings will be open.

The person will live what they never imagined,

All will take place because they worked.

 

Enormous fruits will be generated,

Marvelous miracles will be collected.

There will be no room for poverty,

They will live in abundance and prosperity.

This poem is part of the book Words of Faith.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/meLvPr

The Architect of the Tides

I, wisdom, dwell together with prudence; I possess knowledge and discretion … The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works, before his deeds of old … before he made the world or its fields or any of the dust of the earth … rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind. Proverbs 8:12, 22, 26, 31

Master Francisco’s shipyard smelled of sea salt, wood, and eternity. Francisco, a man whose wrinkles seemed to map all the seas he had never sailed, spent his days in a slow, deliberate dance, transforming oak planks into the skeleton of a new fishing boat.

His only constant visitor was Toni, an eight-year-old boy with eyes full of whys. Toni was not interested in toys; he was interested in the order of things.

“Master Francisco,” Toni asked one day, as he watched the old craftsman fit a rib with millimeter precision. “Why does the boat float?”

Francisco did not stop his work.

“Because I designed it to, my little one. I know the weight of the wood, the strength of the water. I follow a plan. If I just put the pieces together any which way, it would sink.”

The boy was silent for a moment, processing.

“Is that why clouds float and rocks sink?” he asked.

Francisco smiled. He loved that boy’s mind.

“Exactly. God, the Great Builder, also had a plan. He established the heavens with an understanding we can only imagine. Everything in its proper place.”

Toni pointed to the sea, which was breaking rhythmically on the beach just a few meters away.

“And the sea? Why does it stop there? Why doesn’t it just keep going and swallow everything?”

Francisco put down his hammer and sat on a wooden stool, inviting the boy to sit beside him.

“Ah, that’s one of my favorite parts of the story,” the old man said. “When God designed the world, Wisdom was with Him. Like an architect, a master craftsman. She was there when He made the clouds firm above and established the fountains of the deep. And it was she who said to the sea: ‘You shall go no farther than this. Here is where your proud waves halt.’”

He spoke not like one reciting dogma, but like one sharing the secret of a great work of art.

“Wisdom is not just a bunch of rules, Toni. She is the balance. She is the design. She is the reason the world is not chaos. She delighted in the Builder’s presence, and their joy was so great that it overflowed and created everything we see.”

Toni looked at his own small hands, then at Francisco’s calloused ones.

“So, when you build the boat, are you using a little bit of that same Wisdom?”

Francisco’s eyes sparkled. The boy had understood.

“Yes, my son. That’s exactly it. Every time a carpenter chooses the right wood, every time a farmer plants in the right season, every time a mother teaches her child to be kind… we are all using a fragment of that same Architect who rejoiced with the Creator at the beginning of time. And our greatest delight,” he said, ruffling Toni’s hair, “is to see sons, like you, learning to admire her.”

Toni did not understand all the words, but he understood the feeling. He looked at the boat’s skeleton, at the sea, at the clouds. And, for the first time, he did not just see things. He saw a design. A magnificent plan, from the smallest shell on the sand to the largest star in the sky. And at the heart of that design, he felt the presence of an ancient joy, the same joy he now felt beside the old boat builder.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Seeking Acknowledgment

We want to be recognized,

We desire to be applauded,

We long to be noticed,

We want to be valued.

 

We fight for something to happen,

We battle to get people’s acknowledgment.

We dream about that amazing occasion,

On which we will have a great reputation.

 

These wishes are natural,

Everybody wants to feel special,

To feel there is a purpose in what is done,

To feel that we are the best ones.

 

However, it seems we are invisible,

It seems we are contemptible.

Nobody gives us a piece of attention,

Nobody shows any consideration.

 

All that is done seems vainly,

This sensation is heartbreaking.

We did our best in everything,

And we only receive apathy.

The pain blinds our comprehension,

We forget who is seeing our actions.

We forget for whom we are working,

It is not for a simple human being.

 

We are working to the Lord,

He sees us with immeasurable value.

Even if nobody gives us attention,

God applauds our dedication.

 

God is a witness to all we did,

He comprehends our feelings.

The Father gives us strength to continue,

And many more things, we will execute.

 

We must calm ourselves and rest,

We know who waits our best.

Let us do our best effort to the Lord,

He will pour out upon us His abundant favor.

This poem is part of the book Words of Faith.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/meLvPr

One Right Life

The Christian needs to be virtuous,

Doing everything right and avoiding evils.

All right things, he must do,

Then, the testimony about him will be good.

 

The people will look at him and say:

In him, God’s qualities, I can see,

He acts differently in his life,

He does not deceive, pervert, or lie.

 

The Christian’s life will be seen by everyone,

They will see a good heart in that person,

One person who carries too many beliefs,

And they do not walk with the deceivers.

 

The people will see how life is,

One life that has a Bible basis.

They are not let led by external things,

They are not contaminated with wrongdoings.

They will always have a good testimony.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume IV.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bpMr16

The Voice at the Crossroads

Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice? … for wisdom is more precious than rubies, and nothing you desire can compare with her. Proverbs 8:1,11

Laís stood at a crossroads, but not on a real street. It was a silent crossroads, in the middle of the kitchen of her luxurious house, as she prepared breakfast for her husband, Rubens. On one side was the path of security: a life of material comfort, social status, and the stability that Rubens offered her. On the other was an uncertain path, shrouded in mist, that promised only one thing: her own soul back.

Rubens was not a monster. He was worse. He was a master of subtle manipulation. His criticisms came disguised as “care,” his control as “protection.”

“Are you really going to wear that, my love? It doesn’t flatter you,” he would say, undermining her confidence. “Let me handle the finances. You don’t have the head for it,” he would insist, keeping her in a state of childlike dependence.

The voice of wisdom, however, was calling out. It did not shout; it whispered.

It called from the “high places” of her memory: the recollection of the strong, independent woman she was before she married, the competent professional who had given up her career at his request.

It stood “on the pathways” during her trips to the bookstore, where her eyes were drawn to books on relationships and self-esteem. She would flip through them secretly, feeling a mixture of shame and recognition.

It was “at the city gates” in the voice of her sister, who would tell her on the phone: “Laís, this isn’t normal. Love doesn’t diminish; it doesn’t imprison.”

And it cried out “at the doors” in the worried gazes of her few friends, whom Rubens had subtly pushed out of her life.

But the voice of fear shouted louder. The fear of uncertainty, of not being able to support herself, of being judged by society, of being alone. The silver and gold of the lifestyle Rubens provided seemed more valuable than the instruction her soul longed for.

The breaking point came on a Tuesday night. Rubens had organized a dinner for a potential client. Laís spent the entire day preparing everything. During dinner, she dared to disagree with one of Rubens’s political viewpoints. It was a mild, polite disagreement.

Later, after the guest had left, Rubens’s fury came, cold and cutting.

“You humiliated me,” he said, his voice low. “You made me look like a fool in front of an important man. Who do you think you are to have an opinion?”

That night, Laís did not sleep. His words echoed in her mind. She realized, with a painful clarity, that he did not love her. He possessed her. And the price of her security was her silence, her identity.

The next morning, in the kitchen, as the aroma of coffee mixed with the scent of her anguish, she found herself at the final crossroads. The voice of wisdom was calling out louder than ever, no longer as a whisper, but as a warning cry.

She looked at the luxury car in the garage, at the expensive furniture, at the gold on her finger. And, for the first time, she saw them for what they were: weights, not prizes.

She took off her apron. She went to the bedroom, took a small suitcase, and packed only the essentials. She left the diamond ring on the bed. As she walked out the front door, she felt a paralyzing terror, but also a rush of fresh air, as if she were emerging from a place underwater.

The path ahead of her was unknown. She had no job, no home, no plan. But she had herself. And she had chosen. She had chosen instruction over silver, knowledge over gold. She had chosen wisdom. And although she did not know where she was going, for the first time in many years, she felt that she was, finally, on the right path.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL