Today’s Almost Dailies - Nov. 8
If nothing else, this is what’s expected, right?
There is more than one type of fool.
Pity the fool.
The most common fool in Proverbs is the “Casil” (pronounced “ka-seal”). He is known for his refusal to see and repent of stupidity (called “Avale”). But there are layers to this unbelieving and self-seeking path. One layer is the “Secal,” which isn’t as important in Proverbs, but is a favorite in Ecclesiastes, and also turns up as a caricature in fascinating biblical histories (Gen 31:28, 2 Sam 24:10, 1 Chron 16:9-10, etc).
It is the Secal who surrounds us in these last days of Americana. Our culture is breeding RASH fools. They aren’t stupid because they can’t read. They miss the mark because impatience rages within.
Most central, the Fool/Secal believes firmly in his own resources. Too firmly. His trust in man is trust in himself. As a result, Solomon says, his eyes are not in his head (Ecc 2:12-13).
When fear drives, in all the haste, the footpath is hard to see. Running in the desert or wood is not easy. The rash man walks in darkness. He does not know over what he stumbles. He ever tries to make the crooked straight and never quite sees how much unstraightening he leaves in his wake.
Pity the fool. But don’t be him. You are not required to stand by him and laugh at his jokes either. Just keep praying your daily psalms, trusting the wisdom of Solomon, James and Paul, and calling out loud on our Lord Jesus’ Name.
And, when you find your feet moving in haste, remember: you are not alone. Your resources are always small potatoes in the Kingdom. But that’s ok, because in the Kingdom, no weapon forged against you shall conquer. You are already more than a conqueror.
The oven is one thing for sticks, another for steel. For you, in the Name of Jesus Christ, the fire only tempers.
Pity the fool. Walk in the light.
He is risen.
📐🦋Almost Daily Maxim!
The wind follows its Master. The fool has no glory but shame. 26:1
📐🦄Almost Daily Red Letters!
There are no “good” evils. 5:19
📐🧧From the Wyr Eld of Watergeist
The gravel crunched as Earth stepped onto the path. The pale blue path of the moon hung overhead. He shivered in the brisk air. It would not be far to the camp. The sun would rise before long. But before he left, there was one more thing to do….
“Stop! Who goes there?”
The words echoed through the crisp morning air, emanating from a gargantuan, ancient tree that loomed twenty yards ahead. Emerging from the shadows was a vigilant guardsman, his figure silhouetted against the dappled light filtering through the canopy.
“I am Earth,” he called back, rising up to his full height.
“Enlisting?” The soldier's bow was taut, arrow notched as he scrutinized Earth head to toe.
“Yes.”
“Northeast, five hundred paces,” the guardsman gestured with a nod, “beyond that hill, you'll find the quartermaster's tent. Register with him.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, boy,” he grunted, already turning away to resume his hidden post. “This is no charity. We all go to die.”
📐🌊Almost Daily Sun Tzu!
Better forfeit half the cost than pay the cost of losing. 2:14
Like a tree, by streams…
