Proverbs 1 — You Still Have to Be Teachable

Alright, ladies. We’re going into Proverbs. And I don’t want us to come into this like, Oh cute, we’re doing a Bible study on wisdom.

No.

I want us to come into this hungry. Because we live in a world where everybody has an opinion. Everybody has advice. Everybody has a platform. Everybody has a reel, a podcast, a quote, a “truth,” and something they swear you need to hear. But just because something sounds good doesn’t mean it’s God.

And if there has ever been a time when we need to know the difference between what sounds right and what is right, it’s now.

Proverbs was primarily written by Solomon, a man who asked God for wisdom and received an extraordinary measure of it. People literally traveled to sit at this man’s feet and listen to him speak. But here’s what gets me about Solomon:

You can know wisdom and still not walk in wisdom.

Let that sit there for a minute. Because Solomon’s life proves that knowing what God says and actually surrendering your life to what God says are two completely different things.

You can know Scripture. You can underline it. Post it. Teach it. Preach it. Quote it. Have it hanging on your wall in pretty little letters. And still ignore it when it confronts something in you that you don’t want to change.

So I don’t want us going through Proverbs just collecting information. I want this Word to get all up in our business. I want it messing with our attitudes. Our mouths. Our relationships. Our money. Our pride. Our decisions. Our friendships. Our marriages. Our parenting. Our reactions. Our secret places. The stuff nobody sees.

Because if we finish Proverbs knowing more verses but living exactly the same way, what was the point?

I want us to sit down at the feet of Jesus and say: Holy Spirit, teach me. Correct me. Expose me. Show me where I’ve been calling something wisdom that You call foolishness. And then give me the humility to actually change.

Because wisdom isn’t just knowing what’s right.

Wisdom is living like God is right.

Here’s where Proverbs starts coming for us. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been saved. I don’t care if you met Jesus last Tuesday or you’ve been walking with Him for 40 years. I don’t care how many Bible studies you’ve done. How many sermons you’ve preached. How many conferences you’ve attended. How many people come to you for advice.

If you stop being teachable, you stop growing. Period.

Somewhere along the way, maturity can fool us into thinking we don’t need correction anymore. But real wisdom always has a posture of humility. It says: God, I still need You to teach me.

And Proverbs 1:7 lays the whole foundation:

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

That word fear isn’t telling us to run around terrified that God is going to smack us. It’s reverence. Honor. A holy recognition of who He is and who we are not. It’s putting God back in His rightful seat.

And maybe that’s where wisdom starts:

God gets the throne. I don’t.

His Word gets the final say. Not my feelings. Not my wounds. Not what everybody else is doing. Not what culture says is normal. Not what I can justify. Not even what I desperately want to be true.

God. That’s where wisdom begins.

Then Proverbs gets really practical. Verses 10–19 basically say: Be careful who you let pull on you.

Because people don’t normally walk up and announce: “Hey, would you like to completely wreck your life with me?” 😂

No.

Sin usually comes dressed up prettier than that. Come on. Everybody does it. You deserve this. It’s not that serious. Nobody will know. Just this once.

And slowly, if we’re not careful, somebody else’s compromise becomes our compromise.

That’s why you have to pay attention to who has access to your heart. Who are you listening to? Who are you allowing to influence your decisions? Who can talk you into things God has already talked you out of?

Because everybody who loves you is not necessarily leading you toward Jesus. And everybody who has access to you should not have influence over you.

Some people can be loved from a distance.

If walking closely with someone continually pulls you away from obedience, that relationship is costing you more than you realize.

Then we get to verses 20–33, and I love this picture. Wisdom is crying out. She’s not hiding. God isn’t playing some spiritual game of hide-and-seek with us. He speaks. He warns. He corrects. He convicts. He sends people. He gives us His Word.

And if we’re honest, sometimes we already know.

You ever have the Holy Spirit check you before you even finish doing something? You know. That little: Don’t send that text. Don’t say that. Don’t go there. Apologize. Stop talking. Walk away. Forgive them. Tell the truth. Let it go.

You know exactly what I’m talking about. 😂

And then we have the nerve to say: “Lord, show me what to do.”

And He’s like: Girl. I have been telling you for six months. 😂

Sometimes the problem isn’t that God isn’t speaking. Sometimes we just don’t like what He’s saying.

And that is where Proverbs gets uncomfortable. Because wisdom requires correction. And correction requires humility. You cannot ask God for wisdom while simultaneously refusing to be corrected.

At some point, when God puts His finger on something, we have to stop defending it. Stop explaining it. Stop blaming somebody else. Stop saying, “Well, you don’t understand why I…”

Maybe God does understand.

And He’s still saying:

Turn around.

That’s repentance. Not shame. Not condemnation. Not God standing over you waiting to punish you. It is the mercy of God saying: Baby, this road is going somewhere you do not want to go. Turn around while you still can.

This is where Proverbs 1 really challenges me. Because we love saying Jesus is Lord. But Lord means He gets to tell me no. Lord means He gets to correct me. Lord means His Word gets authority over my emotions. Lord means I don’t get to rewrite Scripture because obedience is uncomfortable.

Lord means when my way and His way collide—

mine has to die.

That’s wisdom.

And there is safety there. Not a promise that nothing hard will ever happen. Not a promise that following Jesus means your life will always be easy. But there is a security that comes from knowing: I am not building my life on my own understanding.

I’m letting God govern this thing. His wisdom over mine. His ways over mine. His voice above all the noise.

And that’s what I want for us as we walk through Proverbs. I don’t want us to just become women who know more. I want us to become women who are harder to deceive. Women who recognize foolishness even when it looks attractive. Women who can receive correction without falling apart. Women who know when to speak and when to shut our mouths. Women who know when to stay and when to walk away. Women who don’t have to learn every lesson the hard way. Women who fear God more than we fear disappointing people.

Women who are teachable.

Don’t rush through these. Sit with them.

Maybe that’s where your journey into wisdom needs to start.

Not with another verse. Not with another sermon. Not with more information.