I don’t ever say that out loud. I never actually vocalize “I’m smarter than Solomon!” But here is what often runs through my mind when I am faced with a decision:
“I’ve got this. I don’t need to get wise counsel about this. I don’t need to fast or pray or wait a month to really mull over my options. I’ve been patient for long enough. I shouldn’t talk to people who have made similar decisions in the past and get their opinion. I don’t need to consult the Bible to check out what Scripture has to say about this particular crossroads. I’ve got this.”
And then I make a bad decision.
And then I act shocked.
“What? How did that go so poorly? I’m smart. Why did I end up making such a bad decision? That is unbelievable!”
But is it really? Can I honestly acted surprised when I make bad decisions in isolation? What I’m really saying there is:
“Yes, yes I know that the man we often herald as the wisest man who ever lived blew it. Yes, yes I know that the man God himself audibly bestowed with wisdom and knowledge wrecked his life. But I’m different. I’m not going to make those kinds of mistakes. My plan in life is to be just slightly smarter than Solomon.”
Maybe you’re the exception though. Maybe you are smarter than Solomon. And when you saw the title of this post, you knew exactly where I was going. And instead of reading it, you spent time using words like “Qi” in sentences, even though most of us have to cheat at Words with Friends to even know words like that exist.
But if you’re like me and you’re not smarter than Solomon, let’s promise we’ll stop making so many decisions in isolation. As cliché as this word has become, and as much as it makes me think of Crock Pots, let’s be in community. With people who love us enough to challenge the decisions we’re making.
Unless you’re smarter than that. But, again, you probably stopped reading a long time ago and missed that I was about to drop “horjemr” into a sentence like I knew what that word meant.
