"I said in mine heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure: and, behold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, It is mad: and of mirth, What doeth it? . . . I made me great works; I builded me houses; I planted me vineyards. . . . Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun."

And Solomon goes on. All the world is vanity, all empty. Truth, that. The world's question: How do I fill this hole inside of me?

That is the question. And there is no answer. None at all, because we are phrasing the question wrongly. None of us can fill our own hole or be satisfied. When we were stabbed and given our wound, the spear was poisoned. Until we have the antidote to the poison, we will continue to bleed slowly or quickly until life seeps away.

The antidote is faith. "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Simple trust. We know that, even if our ignorance lasts all the way until after death, at some point we will be able to look back and understand. Darkness does not last. God is working a perfect story, better than I can imagine.

Wise as serpents - the knowledge of good and evil. Most specifically, we are evil and God is unimaginably perfect and just. That knowledge alone leads to despair and death. But we are also to be innocent as doves - the knowledge of life. Simple, childlike faith.

And meanwhile, "He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end. I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God."

Faith is also a gift of God.  ¶ 8:46 AM