I Wasn’t Prepared
I Wasn’t Prepared
Image by lisa runnels from Pixabay
A few weeks ago in church, I listened to the sermon about the parable of the ten virgins, five of which were wise and the other five of which were foolish. All went out carrying lamps to wait for and greet the coming Bridegroom. The five wise virgins brought oil with their lamps, whereas the five foolish ones did not. The five foolish ones took it upon themselves to wait until the Bridegroom came, at which point they would ask their wise counterparts for some of their oil. However, the wise ones told them that they could not share their oil with them, lest there would not be enough. The foolish virgins’ only other alternative was to go out and buy their own, but by the time they arrived at the scene of the Bridegroom’s arrival, they could not attend the wedding banquet with Him. The five wise virgins, on the other hand, were prepared, and hence, they were admitted.
My ears perked up when I heard this. When you think about it, it can be scary. It can feel pressurizing to be prepared for the coming of Jesus, lest we miss out on eternal bliss and peace. Nothing is worse than that, although when I heard this sermon, it reminded me of a similar experience of my own in which I was not prepared. No, I didn’t miss out on getting to heaven (at least not yet), but I missed out on something that could have been very good for me. It has been a hard lesson, and I’m still in the process of forgiving myself for this foolish mistake, which I will describe.
I was preparing to make a “leap of faith” and abandon my current temp job to start a freelance case study copywriting career. Saying goodbye to bosses, commutes, deadlines, pointless meetings, and office politics seemed almost within my grasp. I wanted to create a dream job scenario for myself which would allow me the flexibility to work from home doing something I loved, all while making my own hours, deciding what days I wanted to take off, being able to attend to my children’s upcoming issues at school or at home, et al. Being in job transition had allowed me that flexibility, and it had also allowed me to nurture my faith journey and my prayer life, and I got very attached to that routine. The last thing I wanted was to stay in my current temp job or even to take on another job – temporary or permanent.
The time had come for me, I had decided, to be in charge of myself, but when I received the phone call about a job interview in civil service, I should have been ecstatic. Here was a chance for me to work in an environment which is known for being accommodating to people who have children with special needs, for being generous with paid holidays, sick time, and time off in general, job security, solid benefits, and interesting work with good pay. My stupidity got in the way, and my emotions got the better of me because I thought that “my way” with the freelance copywriting career was the ticket to my financial success and my ability to be available for myself and my kids. As a result, I did not take preparing for the interview seriously. I went in with the attitude that I did not care whether I got the job, but that was before I got there and realized that this could be a great thing.
As soon as I got to the office building in Ridgewood, Queens, I gaped. The surroundings were breathtaking. I looked around and realized that I could be happy making this trip into work every day. Then I went in for the interview. There was a panel of three people, all wonderful, warm, and friendly. They made me feel at home, and the questions they asked were pretty straightforward. Still, I did not feel as though I had done my job of preparing, and I’m almost sure that I blew it. I walked out of there wondering how I could have been so careless as to not prepare myself for this good thing. Had I taken it seriously, I could have gotten into the “banquet,” but I was like those five foolish virgins, and now for the rest of my life, I have to live with the consequences of my attitude. My only consolation in all of this is twofold – I learned a lesson, and I have not yet blown my chances of making it into the “banquet” of heaven. At least with that, there’s still time to prepare.
© Copyright 2023 by Michael Vassallo
Featured image Image by Aksel Lian from Pixabay
It would be lovely to come home from Mass and simply enjoy celebrating God with my family and friends over a meal. My husband and I like to watch old black-and-white television programs, where families are often depicted attending church service on Sundays and then relax on their front porch, carelessly and effortlessly enjoying the day of rest. I guess observing the Lord’s Day in past generations proved a little easier to do. I wonder what it would feel like if, in today’s culture, we made a considerable effort to set this day aside for the one who created us.
I cannot recall the topic we were discussing when my director began to share a story about a three-handled coffee mug. She told me when she presented this thought exercise to others in the past, they became overwhelmed and anxious at the thought of how to hold it or use it. As I began to imagine it in my mind, I was intrigued and excited all at the same time. When my spiritual director asked how the three handled mug made me feel, I couldn’t help but share that I saw the persons of the Trinity—a handle for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The cup is hand-made pottery, with a bumpy texture. The sentimental type I am, I can imagine the hands of the person who created it. I slide my fingertip across the initials scratched into the bottom, too blurred to make out. A reminder of my imperfections and the faithfulness of God. The space where the handles joined the cup reveals finger swipes, merging the clay. A prayerful moment brings me peace in connecting with another person who loved that cup while combining myself with the persons of the Trinity.
Where is Maria Lanakila in all of this? Who is Our Lady of Victory?
