In my forthcoming book, Becoming Flame: Uncommon Mother-Daughter Wisdom (March 2010), I celebrate women’s home-grown wisdom in the form of short mother-daughter dialogues. The ideas and the settings of these small scenarios of inquiry and response grew from my own experiences as a mother and a writer, an editor and a worker at home.

As L. Maloney has written on feminine theological inquiry:

“Our work is contextual and concrete; it sees the ordinary and the everyday as the place where God is revealed; it takes place ‘in the house.’ It is hard work; it is a struggle to find what we are seeking in the darkness. … But it is also characterized by joy and celebration, and by hope: a hope that assures us that God is with us. God has her skirts tucked up and is busy sweeping and searching too.”*

Worldwide, it is a sad time for many of us who are concerned about increased violence toward women (and men). There seems to be so little we can do, other than what we are doing already: working day to day in whatever tasks we have been allotted, talking and listening to each other, seeking God’s guidance for our path, choosing love and forgiveness locally.

Will our voices be heard—and is there any hope for healing through our sincere efforts to “mend up” relations, to raise our children lovingly and model a way of wisdom rather than chaos?

It is indeed hopeful that Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn in their book Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide, announce as we enter this new decade that “The world is awakening to a powerful truth: Women and girls aren’t the problem; they’re the solution.”**

Encouraging and supporting the lives and livelihood of women and girls actually spreads the good, because women often view their lives as relational. And as their lives improve they want to bring their significant others along with them as well—toward greater prosperity and fulfillment.

Into this bleak time of severe economic strain and divisions here and abroad, it DOES matter that women can choose to be awakened and vigilant in their real lives in the world. The life devoted to wisdom may begin with a longing—for love, for peace, for truth, for fulfillment. But it must begin, and we must act on its call.

“Holy One,” a disciple asks a master within the context of a traditional “school” of learning. “What is the difference between knowledge and wisdom?” It is said that the Holy One answered: “When you have knowledge, you use a torch to show the way. When you are wise, you become the torch.”

As I write in my Introduction to Becoming Flame:

“Woman’s wisdom is, of course, as particular as an individual woman herself, since only in the context of real-life dilemmas and choices can true wisdom become actualized. The proof of wisdom is in the health (in the largest sense) of the one who is nurtured by it, as any mother knows in her soul.”

In coming blogs, I will post some examples of my mother-daughter dialogues from Becoming Flame, and welcome any responses from readers to them.

Isabel Anders

Sewanee, Tennessee

*As reflected in Jesus’ “Lost Coin” parable; in The Lost Coin: Parables of Women, Work, and Wisdom by Mary Ann Beavis (New York: Continuum, 2002), p. 24.

**Quoted in Kristof and WuDunn’s New York Times Magazine article, “The Women’s Crusade” (Aug. 17, 2009), p. 1.

It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself.

—Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol.

December—though for most of us it begins winter’s fierceness—also holds within it all the promises of home and hearth, of rosy fires and brightened spirits.

A seasonal journey through Advent’s waiting and preparation gladly culminates in days of feast and fellowship that can keep our souls on course for weeks to come.

Children ourselves in our hearts, we echo Anton Chekhov’s hopeful refrain: “We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.”

Yet this winter month is not without its austerities, a need to save up, to count costs, and then to give and to receive as our souls and hearts require. As Shakespeare wrote in Love’s Labour’s Lost:

At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled mirth;
But like of each thing that in season grows.

This last month of our calendar year imposes its own challenges. But through the weeks and days that have gone before, our souls have begun to trust the lessons of each season. And now, as Fidelis of Sigmaringen wrote, “We should submit our reason to the truths of faith with the humility and simplicity of a child.” Only in such abandonment can our souls stretch to experience the joy of the Christmas season that extends beyond December 25 for Twelve Days of gladness and remembrance!

In December we celebrate how God gives to us the greatest Gift of all, the Word made flesh, living and dwelling among us. No wonder the angels had an exact word of response to it: “Alleluia!”

[Adapted from Seasons for the Soul by Isabel Anders.]