When Jesus sent the Twelve out to announce that the Kingdom of God was at hand, he did not conceal the difficulties they would encounter. He gave them a striking instruction: “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”
These words unite two virtues that must never be separated in Christian life: prudence and simplicity.
The disciples were not to be naïve. They would encounter opposition, deception and hostility. They needed to recognize dangers, distinguish truth from falsehood and choose wisely how to act. At the same time, they were to remain simple—upright in intention, transparent before God and free from duplicity.
Prudence without simplicity can degenerate into cunning. Simplicity without prudence can become naïveté.
Christ asks us for both.
Simplicity gives unity to our life. The simple person does not live with hidden agendas or constantly calculate how to manipulate circumstances for personal advantage. He tries to act with a clean intention, seeking what is true and good.
This does not mean that he says everything he thinks or reveals everything he knows. Discretion is not dishonesty. Nor does simplicity require us to trust everyone indiscriminately.
The simple person is transparent in intention, not naïve in judgment.
Prudence complements this simplicity by helping us see reality correctly and choose the appropriate means for achieving a good end.
St. Augustine described prudence as the love that distinguishes what helps us toward God from what hinders us. This definition places prudence within the whole Christian vocation.
Prudence is not merely practical cleverness.
It is the virtue that enables us to judge circumstances in the light of our true good and then act accordingly.
The prudent person asks: What is really happening here? What is the good that should be pursued? What means are morally right and practically effective? What consequences should reasonably be foreseen?
Then he acts.
This last point is essential.
Prudence is not endless reflection.
It is right reason applied to action.
A person may think about a decision for weeks, gather enormous amounts of information and consider every imaginable possibility, yet still fail to act.
That is not necessarily prudence.
Sometimes it is fear.
True prudence seeks sufficient knowledge for a sound decision and then has the courage to decide.
This is why prudence has traditionally been called the charioteer of the virtues.
Courage, justice, generosity and other virtues need prudence to guide them.
Courage without prudence can become recklessness.
Generosity without prudence can become wastefulness.
Zeal without prudence can harm the very good it seeks to promote.
But prudence without courage can become paralysis.
The virtues need one another.
Our Lord gives us the perfect model.
Throughout the Gospel, Jesus acts with remarkable clarity and prudence.
He knows when to speak and when to remain silent.
He knows when to withdraw from danger and when the hour has come to confront it.
He adapts his teaching to the capacity of his listeners.
He reveals the mystery of his identity gradually.
He prepares the apostles little by little for the scandal of the Cross.
His prudence is never manipulation.
He does not deceive.
He does not compromise truth.
He simply understands persons, circumstances and timing perfectly.
We too must learn this art.
The first requirement of prudence is to see reality.
This sounds simple, but it is often difficult.
Our judgment can be distorted by emotion, self-interest, fear, pride, resentment or desire.
We may see what we want to see.
We may ignore inconvenient facts.
We may exaggerate dangers because we are afraid or minimize them because we want a particular outcome.
Prudence requires intellectual honesty.
Before deciding, we must ask whether we understand the facts accurately.
This is one reason good formation matters.
A person cannot judge well if his understanding of reality is seriously mistaken.
In moral and spiritual matters, sound doctrine gives us principles by which to judge.
A well-formed conscience does not invent good and evil according to preference. It recognizes an objective moral order and seeks to apply it wisely to concrete circumstances.
Prudence therefore presupposes truth.
It does not ask merely, “What will work?”
It asks, “What is right, and what is the best right way to do it?”
A dishonest action does not become prudent because it produces a convenient result.
An immoral means cannot be justified by a good intention.
Christian prudence always operates within the demands of truth and charity.
At the same time, moral principles do not automatically tell us exactly what to do in every concrete situation.
Two courses of action may both be morally legitimate.
Circumstances may be complex.
Information may be incomplete.
Different responsibilities may compete for our attention.
This is where prudence becomes indispensable.
We must deliberate.
We consider relevant facts.
We foresee likely consequences.
We weigh responsibilities.
We seek advice when appropriate.
Then we decide.
Humility is therefore one of the foundations of prudence.
The imprudent person often assumes that his first judgment must be correct.
The prudent person knows the limits of his knowledge.
He is willing to ask.
This is particularly important when a decision has serious consequences for ourselves or others.
St. Thomas Aquinas emphasized the importance of counsel in prudent decision-making.
Seeking advice is not weakness.
It is recognition that another person may see something we have missed.
But advice must be sought wisely.
Not every opinion is equally valuable.
We should ask people who understand the matter, possess sound judgment and are capable of giving disinterested advice.
If the question concerns our spiritual life, we should seek someone with genuine spiritual and doctrinal formation.
If it concerns medicine, law, finance or another specialized field, competence matters.
We should not shop for advice until someone finally tells us what we already wanted to hear.
That is not counsel.
It is self-confirmation.
The purpose of advice is to help us see reality more clearly.
Once good advice has been received, we remain responsible for acting.
Prudence cannot be outsourced.
There are times when we must make a decision even though certainty is impossible.
This is one of the most difficult lessons of mature judgment.
Life rarely gives us complete information.
We may have to choose a course of study, accept a job, enter a relationship, undertake a project or make a serious financial decision without knowing exactly how everything will unfold.
The perfectionist wants certainty before acting.
The prudent person seeks reasonable certainty.
Then he moves forward.
Prudence accepts risk because human life cannot eliminate it.
What matters is that the risk be reasonable and proportionate to the good being pursued.
This is why prudence should never be confused with excessive caution.
Some people use the language of prudence to justify avoiding every difficult or uncertain undertaking.
They wait for the perfect moment.
They want one more piece of information.
They imagine another possible danger.
They postpone commitment.
Eventually the opportunity passes.
Fear has disguised itself as wisdom.
The Gospel gives us no support for such timid prudence.
The apostles did not wait until evangelization became safe.
St. Paul did not calculate how to avoid every hardship.
The saints did not undertake great works only when success was guaranteed.
Christian prudence is capable of boldness.
It recognizes that sometimes the greater risk is refusing to act.
A person may be afraid to speak about the faith because someone might react badly.
He may avoid correcting an injustice because intervention could be uncomfortable.
He may postpone a vocation or commitment because he cannot foresee every future difficulty.
He may refuse an apostolic initiative because it could fail.
In such cases caution can become a form of cowardice.
Prudence asks not only, “What could go wrong if I act?”
It also asks, “What good may be lost if I do nothing?”
This question is often neglected.
Omission has consequences too.
An opportunity to help someone may disappear.
A necessary conversation may become harder.
A problem left unaddressed may grow.
A person waiting for encouragement may conclude that nobody cares.
Sometimes prudence requires prompt action.
The Book of Ecclesiastes observes that whoever watches the wind will not sow and whoever looks at the clouds will not reap.
There will always be reasons to delay.
The prudent person distinguishes legitimate reasons from excuses.
This requires self-knowledge.
We should know our habitual tendencies.
Some people act too quickly.
They need to slow down, gather facts and seek advice.
Others deliberate endlessly.
They need to learn to decide.
Some are excessively influenced by emotion.
Others become so analytical that they lose sight of the human persons involved.
Prudence grows when we recognize our characteristic weaknesses and compensate for them.
Experience is therefore an important teacher.
We learn from past decisions.
When something goes badly, we should ask why.
Did we lack information?
Did we ignore advice?
Were we rushed by emotion?
Did we fail to foresee an obvious consequence?
Did we hesitate too long?
Did we choose a good end but an ineffective means?
Such reflection gradually develops practical wisdom.
But we must avoid becoming prisoners of past mistakes.
A bad decision should make us wiser, not permanently afraid to decide.
Simplicity helps us here.
The simple person can admit, “I was wrong.”
He does not need elaborate excuses to protect his image.
When new facts appear, he changes course.
This flexibility is part of prudence.
Stubbornness is not strength of character.
Sometimes fidelity requires perseverance.
At other times fidelity requires recognizing that our original judgment was mistaken.
The prudent person distinguishes between the two.
He does not change direction merely because something becomes difficult.
But neither does he persist in a mistake simply because he has invested time, effort or reputation in it.
Simplicity frees us to correct ourselves.
We can say: I made the best judgment I could with the information available, but the situation has changed.
Or: I misunderstood the situation.
Or simply: I was wrong.
These are signs of maturity.
The inability to admit error often leads to greater imprudence because the person begins making new mistakes in order to defend the old one.
Humility breaks this cycle.
Prudence also governs speech.
Not every truth should be spoken at every moment in the same way.
Christ himself tells the apostles that he has many things to say to them that they cannot yet bear.
This does not mean concealing truth dishonestly.
It means respecting timing, circumstances and the capacity of the listener.
A correction given in anger may be true but imprudent.
A difficult truth spoken publicly when it should have been addressed privately may cause unnecessary harm.
An argument pursued when the other person is exhausted or emotionally overwhelmed may accomplish nothing.
Prudence asks: Is this the right moment? Is this the right way? Am I the right person to say it?
Simplicity ensures that these questions do not become excuses for cowardice.
We do not remain silent merely because speaking would be uncomfortable.
We seek the right way to serve truth.
This balance is especially important in apostolate.
Zeal wants others to know and love Christ.
But zeal must respect freedom and circumstances.
We cannot force faith.
We cannot treat people as projects.
We need to listen.
We need to understand where someone is beginning.
We may need to answer one question today and leave another for later.
Christ often taught through questions, parables and personal encounters.
He met people where they were while calling them beyond where they were.
This is apostolic prudence.
It does not dilute the truth.
It makes the truth easier to receive.
The same principle applies to education and formation.
A parent, teacher or mentor may see clearly what another person needs to learn.
But formation has a rhythm.
Too much correction at once can discourage.
A truth given before a person is ready may be misunderstood.
Prudence selects what is most important now.
Simplicity keeps the intention pure: we correct because we love, not because another person’s defect irritates us.
This requires patience.
Prudence is closely related to patience because wise action often depends upon timing.
There are moments when we must act immediately.
There are others when waiting is the wiser action.
The difficulty is knowing which is which.
Fear may tell us to wait when courage is needed.
Impatience may tell us to act when reflection is needed.
Prayer helps purify these impulses.
The prudent Christian brings important decisions before God.
He asks for light.
He tries to detach himself from a predetermined outcome.
He seeks to become willing to do what is right even if it is not what he originally preferred.
This interior freedom is crucial.
We cannot judge clearly when we have already decided what answer we want.
Detachment makes prudence possible.
We say: Lord, help me see reality as it is, not as I would like it to be.
Then we use our intelligence.
Prayer does not replace thought.
God normally guides us through the faculties he has given us.
We gather information.
We reason.
We consult others.
We make a decision.
Then we entrust the outcome to providence.
This last step protects prudence from anxiety.
Even a well-made decision can have an unexpected result.
Prudence does not guarantee success.
It means that we acted reasonably and morally in the circumstances available to us.
We should learn from outcomes, but we should not judge every decision solely by whether events turned out as hoped.
A reckless decision can sometimes succeed by luck.
A prudent decision can sometimes fail because of circumstances nobody could reasonably foresee.
We judge prudence by the quality of the decision-making, not merely by the result.
This gives peace.
Once we have gathered sufficient information, sought appropriate advice and decided in good faith, we can move forward without endlessly reopening the question.
Excessive second-guessing can become another form of imprudence.
We cannot live backward.
If new information arises, we reconsider.
Otherwise, we continue.
Divine providence is larger than our decisions.
God has given us genuine freedom and expects us to use it.
We should not imagine that every choice hides one mysterious correct answer that we must somehow discover or risk ruining God’s plan.
In many situations there are several morally good possibilities.
We choose prudently among them.
God can guide us through our freedom.
This understanding is particularly important for people who become anxious about discerning God’s will.
They may fear making the “wrong” choice between two legitimate options.
They pray for signs.
They seek repeated advice.
They wait for complete certainty.
But God does not ordinarily govern us by eliminating the need to decide.
He forms us through decision.
We pray, think, consult and choose.
Then we trust.
Simplicity makes this trust possible.
The simple heart does not continually search for hidden meanings in every event.
It does not interpret every coincidence as a supernatural message.
It lives openly before God.
It seeks his will through the ordinary means he has given: Scripture, Church teaching, prayer, conscience, duties, circumstances and wise counsel.
Then it acts with freedom.
This protects us from superstition and spiritual anxiety.
God is a Father, not a puzzle-maker.
He does not delight in hiding his will so that we will fail to discover it.
When something is morally required, we obey.
When several good paths are open, we choose responsibly.
If circumstances later change, we adapt.
This is prudent simplicity.
The virtue is equally necessary in our relationship with culture.
Christians live in a world containing both genuine goods and real dangers.
Naïveté can expose us unnecessarily to influences that weaken faith or moral judgment.
Prudence asks what we read, watch and allow to shape our imagination.
Not everything that is culturally fashionable is harmless.
Ideas enter gradually.
Repeated images form desires.
Entertainment can normalize attitudes we would once have recognized as destructive.
Prudence therefore includes guarding the interior life.
This does not require fear of the world.
Christians should know their culture.
We should understand ideas, appreciate genuine beauty and engage confidently with others.
But engagement is not the same as indiscriminate exposure.
We need judgment.
A mature person knows that freedom is not demonstrated by placing himself unnecessarily in situations that predictably weaken him.
If a particular environment repeatedly leads us toward sin, avoiding it is not cowardice.
It is prudence.
If certain media continually disturb our interior life or erode our moral sensitivity, we should be willing to step away.
The prudent person does not ask only, “Is this technically permissible?”
He also asks, “Is this helping me become the person God calls me to be?”
This is a more demanding question.
Many things are not intrinsically wrong but may still be unhelpful.
Time itself must be governed prudently.
Hours can disappear into entertainment, social media, news or trivial distractions.
No single moment seems serious.
Yet habits shape a life.
Prudence looks beyond the isolated action to the pattern.
Where is this leading me?
This question applies to friendships, habits, work, entertainment and spiritual life.
The prudent person thinks in terms of direction.
Simplicity keeps the answer from becoming complicated.
Does this bring me closer to God, truth, virtue and genuine love?
Or does it gradually move me away?
St. Augustine’s definition of prudence becomes very practical here: love discerning what helps us toward God and what hinders us.
The ultimate purpose of prudence is not simply to avoid mistakes.
It is to live well.
Its horizon is holiness.
Pope St. John Paul II described the fundamental task entrusted to each person as the perfection of the human person himself.
Christian prudence serves this vocation.
It helps us build a unified life.
Our faith, work, relationships, use of time and moral decisions should not exist in separate compartments.
Prudence orders them toward one end.
This is why simplicity and prudence belong together so beautifully.
Simplicity gives us one ultimate purpose.
Prudence finds the right path toward it.
The simple Christian wants to love God and do his will.
The prudent Christian learns how to do so amid the complexity of real life.
Without simplicity, prudence can become calculating.
Without prudence, simplicity can become ineffective.
Together they produce mature Christian judgment.
This judgment is neither worldly shrewdness nor innocent gullibility.
It sees evil without becoming cynical.
It recognizes danger without becoming fearful.
It understands human weakness without becoming suspicious of everyone.
It acts intelligently while remaining transparent.
This balance is difficult because the world often rewards cunning.
People learn to manage impressions.
They conceal motives.
They say what is advantageous rather than what is true.
They calculate relationships according to usefulness.
Christian simplicity rejects this duplicity.
Our yes should mean yes and our no should mean no.
We should not manipulate people.
We should not flatter for advantage.
We should not present one face to one group and another elsewhere merely to win approval.
Integrity simplifies life.
A person who tells the truth does not have to remember which version he told to whom.
A person with a clean intention does not need to maintain elaborate strategies of self-protection.
Simplicity brings freedom.
Yet integrity does not mean indiscretion.
We are not obliged to disclose everything to everyone.
Confidential information must be protected.
Private matters may rightly remain private.
Diplomacy can be virtuous.
Silence can be prudent.
The distinction lies in intention and truthfulness.
We may withhold information for a legitimate reason.
We may not deceive in order to manipulate.
The prudent and simple person learns this distinction.
He is neither secretive nor indiscreet.
He is trustworthy.
This quality is especially important in friendship and leadership.
People need to know that our words are sincere.
A leader who manipulates information for personal advantage eventually destroys trust.
A friend who uses confidences carelessly damages intimacy.
Prudence protects what should be protected.
Simplicity ensures that protection does not become duplicity.
Together they create reliability.
There is also a beautiful relationship between simplicity and courage.
The complicated person often hesitates because he imagines too many possible reactions.
What will people think?
How will this affect my image?
Could someone misunderstand?
Might I lose approval?
The simple person asks a more direct question: What is the right thing to do?
Then prudence asks: What is the best way to do it?
This order is liberating.
First the end.
Then the means.
Many moral confusions arise because we reverse the order.
We begin with what is convenient and then search for reasons to justify it.
True prudence refuses this.
It does not rationalize a predetermined desire.
It submits desire to truth.
This can require courage.
Sometimes the prudent course will look imprudent according to worldly standards.
A person may give up a lucrative opportunity because it would compromise his family or conscience.
Someone may speak publicly for an unpopular truth.
A young person may choose a vocation others do not understand.
A Christian may undertake an apostolic work whose success cannot be guaranteed.
The world may call such decisions foolish.
But prudence must always be judged according to the true end of human life.
If eternal life is real, then decisions cannot be evaluated only by comfort, money, prestige or security.
Supernatural prudence enlarges the horizon.
Christ himself appeared imprudent by worldly standards.
He could have softened his teaching to avoid opposition.
He could have withdrawn the discourse on the Eucharist when many disciples left him.
He could have compromised with religious authorities.
He could have spoken differently before Pilate.
He did none of these things.
His prudence was perfect because he always chose the means appropriate to the mission given him by the Father.
Avoiding the Cross was not his highest goal.
Fidelity was.
This transforms our understanding of prudence.
The prudent Christian does not ask primarily, “How can I remain safe?”
He asks, “How can I remain faithful?”
Sometimes fidelity requires caution.
Sometimes it requires daring.
The same virtue discerns both.
The martyrs were not imprudent because they refused to deny Christ in order to save their lives.
They understood the hierarchy of goods.
Life is a great good.
Faithfulness to God is greater.
Prudence recognizes this order.
We face smaller versions of the same question every day.
Do we remain silent because speaking would cost us social approval?
Do we avoid generosity because we fear inconvenience?
Do we postpone a good decision because commitment limits our options?
Do we call hesitation prudence when it is really attachment to comfort?
These questions deserve honest examination.
False prudence often speaks in reasonable language.
It says: This is not the right time.
I need to think more.
Perhaps later.
I should avoid extremes.
There may be good reasons behind such statements.
But sometimes they conceal fear.
Discernment requires us to examine the motive.
Am I genuinely seeking the best means?
Or am I looking for a respectable excuse not to act?
Simplicity helps us answer honestly.
A simple heart does not bargain endlessly with God.
When his will becomes reasonably clear, it responds.
Our Lady is the supreme example.
At the Annunciation she asks a prudent question: “How can this be?”
She does not respond blindly.
She seeks understanding.
Once the angel explains what she needs to know, she does not demand guarantees about every future difficulty.
She says: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word.”
Prudence and simplicity meet perfectly in her fiat.
She understands enough to respond.
Then she trusts.
This is a model for our own decisions.
We should ask necessary questions.
We should seek light.
We should not confuse impulsiveness with faith.
But once we have sufficient clarity, we must be willing to act.
There comes a point when further analysis no longer produces wisdom.
It merely postpones obedience.
Mary teaches us holy decisiveness.
Her simplicity is not naïveté.
She knows enough of Scripture and life to understand that God’s call may involve suffering.
Simeon will later tell her that a sword will pierce her soul.
Yet she remains faithful.
Prudence does not eliminate the Cross.
It helps us embrace the right cross.
This is an important distinction.
We should not manufacture unnecessary suffering through poor judgment and then call it sacrifice.
Nor should we avoid necessary sacrifice by calling it prudence.
The Christian life requires us to distinguish between the two.
Prayer, formation, counsel, experience and humility gradually sharpen this judgment.
We will still make mistakes.
No human prudence is perfect.
Sometimes we will act too quickly.
Sometimes too slowly.
We may trust someone we should not have trusted or become suspicious when trust was deserved.
We may speak when silence would have been wiser or remain silent when courage required speech.
When this happens, simplicity tells us what to do.
Acknowledge the mistake.
Learn.
Repair what can be repaired.
Begin again.
The prudent person is not someone who never makes a bad judgment.
He is someone who becomes wiser through experience.
This should give us confidence.
We do not need perfect foresight before living.
God asks us to use the intelligence, freedom and grace he has given us.
He accompanies us even through imperfect decisions.
Our task is to remain teachable.
A teachable person becomes prudent.
He listens.
He observes.
He reflects.
He learns from consequences.
He accepts correction.
He does not cling to an opinion merely because it is his own.
At the same time, he does not become dependent upon constant reassurance.
Eventually he decides.
This balance between counsel and personal responsibility is a mark of maturity.
We should neither isolate ourselves from advice nor surrender our judgment to others.
Good counsel forms our prudence; it does not replace it.
Over time, repeated good decisions create practical wisdom.
We become better at recognizing what matters.
We learn which details are relevant and which are distractions.
We become less easily manipulated by appearances.
We recognize recurring patterns.
This is why older people can possess a wisdom that cannot simply be learned from books.
Experience, reflected upon honestly, teaches.
But age alone does not guarantee prudence.
Experience must be interpreted.
Someone can repeat the same mistake for decades.
Humility turns experience into wisdom.
The prudent and simple Christian therefore remains a lifelong learner.
He never assumes that he has nothing more to discover.
Reality is larger than his present understanding.
Other people may see what he does not.
God may lead him in unexpected ways.
This openness does not produce instability because simplicity gives his life a fixed centre.
The centre is Christ.
Everything else can be reconsidered in relation to him.
Plans may change.
Methods may change.
Opinions on practical matters may change.
Circumstances certainly change.
But the ultimate direction remains the same.
Toward Christ.
This is the deepest unity of prudence and simplicity.
Simplicity fixes the heart on the true end.
Prudence navigates the changing road.
One gives direction.
The other gives judgment.
Together they allow us to move through a complicated world without becoming complicated within.
We can be alert without suspiciousness.
Cautious without fear.
Bold without recklessness.
Flexible without inconsistency.
Transparent without indiscretion.
Confident without presumption.
This is the mature Christian balance contained in Christ’s command: wise as serpents and innocent as doves.
We need this balance perhaps more than ever.
Modern life surrounds us with information, competing opinions, persuasive technologies and constant pressure to react quickly.
We are encouraged to form instant judgments about complex events.
Social media rewards certainty and outrage more than careful reflection.
Advertising continually seeks to influence desire.
Political and cultural narratives simplify reality into slogans.
Prudence asks us to resist this pressure.
We do not have to form an immediate opinion about everything.
We can verify facts.
We can admit uncertainty.
We can distinguish what we know from what we merely suspect.
We can refuse to share information simply because it confirms what we already believe.
This intellectual discipline is part of Christian prudence.
Simplicity adds another protection.
It asks us to seek truth rather than victory.
We should not twist facts merely to defeat an opponent.
We should be willing to acknowledge truth wherever it appears.
A simple love of truth frees us from ideological thinking.
We do not need reality to fit perfectly into our preferred narrative.
We want to see things as they are.
This attitude is deeply Christian because all truth ultimately comes from God.
Prudence then helps us respond appropriately.
Not every false claim requires our intervention.
Not every online argument deserves our time.
Not every controversy is equally important.
Attention itself is a limited resource.
The prudent person chooses where to invest it.
This too is part of living a unified life.
We cannot pursue every issue.
We cannot solve every problem.
We ask what God has actually entrusted to us.
Our duties provide an important guide.
The responsibilities of our vocation usually have priority over distant problems we cannot meaningfully influence.
It is possible to become passionately involved in public controversies while neglecting the person in the next room.
Prudence restores proportion.
Simplicity returns us to the concrete question: What good is mine to do now?
Often the answer is ordinary.
Finish the work.
Keep the promise.
Make the phone call.
Listen patiently.
Say the necessary word.
Ask forgiveness.
Pray.
Great prudence is often exercised through small acts of fidelity.
We should therefore not imagine prudence as a virtue needed only for dramatic decisions.
Every day requires it.
How should I use this hour?
Should I speak or remain silent?
Is this expense reasonable?
Does this person need advice or simply listening?
Should I persist or change course?
Is this fear warning me of real danger or merely protecting my comfort?
These small judgments gradually shape a life.
Holiness is built through them.
We ask the Holy Spirit for the gift of counsel and for the virtue of prudence.
We ask for a clear mind, a humble heart and the courage to act.
And we ask Our Lady for her simplicity.
She did not understand every detail of the future.
She did not need to.
She knew the One who called her.
When God’s will became clear, she answered with a wholehearted fiat.
May she teach us to do the same: to think carefully without becoming complicated, to seek advice without surrendering responsibility, to recognize danger without becoming afraid, and to act boldly when love requires it.
Then prudence will not become an excuse for timidity, and simplicity will not become naïveté.
We will learn to live as Christ commanded: wise as serpents, innocent as doves, and always moving with a clear and undivided heart toward him.
