God of Solomon the wise and just,
God of Luke the learned,
God of the School Sisters and even the Scholastics,
God of each one teaching one:
You inspire your people with visions of the deserts rejoicing in bloom. You water us for growth, nothing less than the full stature of Christ.
You draw us into mystery. We can always say more. We could never say enough.
Bless those who give and receive your wisdom, and bless our variety of gifts:
Bless the voracious readers.
Bless those who work in clay.
Bless tinkerers and doodlers and thinkers-out-loud.
Bless flashcards in the backseat.
Bless labs and gyms and study groups and storycircles.
Bless those who know that sitting still is heresy,
and those who know that stillness is divine.
Bless induction and deduction and expansion and distillation
and even devil’s advocacy in its proper time,
always as a tool and never as a weapon.
Bless us as we sift and winnow and rejoice and play around and butt heads and make music. Bless our filling of napkins and composition notebooks as font and offering.
Let the final word always be this:
you are One-and-All.