Over the years my mom has become a self-taught Biblical scholar.

When Kathie Lee Gifford said, “Over the years my mom has become a self-taught Biblical scholar,” she was not simply speaking of her mother’s study of Scripture—she was speaking of the transformative power of devotion, curiosity, and perseverance. In those few words lies a quiet but profound truth: that wisdom does not come only from institutions, but from the heart that hungers for understanding. Her statement is an ode to the self-taught spirit, to those who seek truth not because they are told to, but because something within them burns to know the divine more deeply.

To call someone a self-taught Biblical scholar is to recognize a journey of discipline and reverence. Such a path is not easy. It requires not only reading, but reflection; not only knowledge, but humility. It is the kind of learning that transforms the learner. Gifford’s mother, through her years of study, became a vessel of wisdom shaped by quiet persistence. Like the monastic scribes of old who copied sacred texts by candlelight, she pursued understanding not for fame or title, but for communion with the eternal. Her scholarship was not granted by degrees, but by prayer, contemplation, and time itself.

The origin of such devotion can be found deep in the human story. In every age, there have been those who taught themselves sacred truths. The ancient desert fathers and mothers of early Christianity withdrew from society not to escape it, but to listen more closely to God. They learned from the silence of the wilderness, from the wind that carried whispers of eternity. Likewise, the Jewish scholar Rashi, centuries ago, studied Scripture so diligently by himself that his writings became the foundation of later generations. Such seekers remind us that knowledge born of solitude and faith can be as luminous as knowledge bestowed by worldly teachers.

Kathie Lee’s admiration for her mother reflects a deep respect for this kind of spiritual independence. In a world that often measures wisdom by credentials, her mother stands as a symbol of another kind of mastery—the mastery of the heart. She shows that one can grow into a scholar not by titles or recognition, but by love of truth. To read the Bible daily, to wrestle with its meanings, to let its words shape one’s life over the years—this is the mark of true scholarship. It is a lifelong apprenticeship to the divine, one that does not end when the book is closed, but continues in every act of kindness, forgiveness, and faith.

There is something deeply moving about the phrase “over the years.” It suggests not an instant revelation, but a slow, unfolding journey. It evokes the image of a woman growing older alongside the Scriptures, her understanding ripening like fruit in the sun. Each year, new passages reveal themselves with new meaning; each season of life brings fresh insight into the same ancient words. This mirrors the wisdom of the ancients, who taught that the sacred text is not read once, but lived a thousand times over. As one changes, so too does one’s understanding of the divine.

This kind of lifelong study is not limited to religion—it is a lesson in how all learning should be approached. True wisdom is self-taught, even when others guide us. It comes when we take ownership of our curiosity, when we let questions drive us instead of fearing them. The mother Kathie Lee describes embodies this spirit: she proves that anyone, with devotion and patience, can become a scholar of the soul. In her story lies a quiet call to every listener—to return to the texts, traditions, and truths that speak to one’s heart, and to study them not as mere words, but as living teachers.

Let this be the lesson drawn from her reflection: the greatest education is not confined to classrooms, nor is faith reserved for the ordained. The divine is found by those who seek with love, who open the Scriptures—or any sacred text—with a humble mind and a willing heart. Whether one studies the Bible, philosophy, poetry, or the mysteries of nature, let the pursuit be guided by sincerity rather than ambition. For as Kathie Lee’s mother shows, wisdom is not given—it is cultivated. Over the years, it grows quietly, like roots deepening in the soil of the soul, until at last, it becomes not merely knowledge, but light.