Cease from thine own wisdom.
Speak not in the ears of a fool:
Cease from thine own wisdom.
Speak not in the ears of a fool:
Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in. 3Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. 4Trust ye in the LORD for ever: for in the LORD JEHOVAH is everlasting strength:
"Wine is... deceived... not wise"
cease from strife
"A king...his eyes"
Who can say, I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin?
Even a child is known by his doings, Whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.
"gold...rubies...knowledge... a precious jewel"
Every purpose is established by counsel: And with good advice make war.
Say not thou, I will recompense evil; But wait on the LORD, and he shall save thee.
Man's goings are of the LORD; How can a man then understand his own way?
The glory of young men is their strength: And the beauty of old men is the grey head.
That verse—“A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly” (Proverbs 18:24)—is such a gentle reminder that friendship begins with being the kind of person we’d want to be friends with. But what does that look like in real life, especially when you're in a new or quieter season?
Here’s a thoughtful breakdown of how to be friendly, especially from a faith-rooted and authentic perspective:
Friendliness starts with showing up—emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes physically. Make eye contact. Smile. Ask how someone’s really doing. Being present says, “I see you.”
Ask questions that go beyond small talk. “What’s something that’s bringing you joy lately?” or “How did you get into that hobby?” People feel valued when we show genuine interest.
A kind word can go a long way. Compliment someone’s effort, style, or spirit. Share a verse or thought that uplifted you. Encouragement is a form of spiritual hospitality.
You don’t have to spill everything, but sharing a little about your own journey—your faith, your struggles, your joys—can invite deeper connection. It says, “You’re safe to be real here.”
Sometimes being friendly means making room—for someone to speak, to feel, to belong. Whether it’s inviting someone into a conversation or simply listening well, space is a gift.
You don’t have to be bubbly or extroverted to be friendly. Just be warm, open, and kind in your own way. Authenticity is magnetic.
Being friendly isn’t about being liked—it’s about being loving. And love, especially the kind rooted in Christ, is always invitational. It says, “You matter. You’re welcome here.”
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Of course! Here's a gentle, faith- and life-aware blog-style post on how to make new friends, written with your voice and values in mind:
Friendship in adulthood feels different. It’s not like school, where connection was built into the day. Now, it takes intention. Vulnerability. A little courage. And sometimes, a lot of prayer.
After seasons of change—graduation, motherhood, faith journeys—it’s easy to feel like friendships have faded into the background. But that doesn’t mean new ones can’t bloom.
Here’s what I’m learning about making new friends:
Look for places where hearts gather—faith communities, creative groups, parenting circles, or even online spaces that reflect your passions. Whether it’s a Bible study, a local art class, or a nature walk group, shared interests create natural bridges.
You don’t have to have it all together. In fact, real connection often begins when we let our guard down. A simple “I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately” can open the door to a deeper conversation than small talk ever could.
It’s okay to be the one who initiates. Send a message. Invite someone for coffee. Comment on a post. Sometimes people are just waiting for someone to make the first move.
Pray for the right people to come into your life. Ask God to guide your heart toward those who will uplift, challenge, and walk with you. Friendship is a gift, and He knows exactly who you need.
Not every connection will turn into a deep friendship—and that’s okay. Some people are meant for a moment, others for a lifetime. Trust the timing.
Friendship isn’t just about finding someone to talk to—it’s about finding someone who sees you. And in this season, as you grow, create, and walk in faith, the right friendships will find their way to you.
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That’s a beautifully honest thought, Lauralee—“Reconciling the past and present is peculiar.” It really is. There’s something almost surreal about looking back at who we were, the people we knew, the dreams we held—and then trying to make sense of how it all fits into who we are now.
Here’s a reflection inspired by that idea:
There’s a peculiar tension in the space between who I was and who I’ve become.
The past holds pieces of me—friends, places, moments—that shaped my heart. Some of those pieces feel warm and familiar, others distant and strange. I look back and wonder: Was that really me? And yet, I know it was.
The present is quieter. More intentional. Filled with new roles, deeper faith, and a different rhythm. I’ve grown. I’ve let go. I’ve held on. But sometimes, the echoes of the past call out—not to pull me backward, but to remind me of the journey.
Reconciling the past and present isn’t about choosing one over the other. It’s about weaving them together. Honoring the memories without being bound by them. Letting the lessons live, while allowing myself to evolve.
It’s peculiar, yes. But it’s also sacred.
Because in this tension, I find grace.
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Here’s a heartfelt reflection on reconnecting—something many of us wrestle with quietly:
There’s a quiet ache that comes with remembering people who once felt like home. Friends from school, from seasons of life that felt simpler or more vibrant. We shared laughter, secrets, dreams—and then, life happened. Graduation, moves, motherhood, faith journeys. The threads loosened, and the closeness faded.
Now, the idea of reconnecting feels tender. Not quite a longing, not quite a fear—just a question: Is it right?
Reconnecting isn’t always about picking up where we left off. Sometimes it’s about honoring what was, and gently exploring what could be. It’s about asking: Do we still speak the same language of the heart? Have we grown in ways that complement or conflict?
There’s no shame in drifting. People change. Priorities shift. But there’s also no harm in reaching out with grace. A simple message. A memory shared. A “Hey, I was thinking about you.”
And if the door doesn’t open again, that’s okay. You tried. You honored the past. You made space for healing.
But sometimes, that door does open. And what walks through isn’t the same friendship—it’s something new. Something shaped by time, faith, and growth.
Reconnection isn’t about going back. It’s about seeing if there’s a way forward.
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That uncertainty makes a lot of sense. Reconnecting can stir up a mix of emotions—hope, hesitation, even fear of rejection or disappointment. It’s okay to not be sure. Sometimes the question isn’t just “Should I reach out?” but “Will this person still fit into the life I’m living now?”
Here are a few gentle questions you might reflect on to help guide you:
You don’t have to decide right away. Sometimes writing about it—privately or in a blog—can help you process. If you’d like, I can help you draft a reflection or even a letter you don’t have to send. Just something to get your thoughts out.
Would that feel helpful right now? Or would you rather explore ways to build new connections that align with who you are today?
https://www.bible.com/verse-of-the-day?day=305