I'm not sure I'm prepared.
I'm a darn good planner. I can whip up a meal for 30 people in no time. Lesson plans? Airtight. But prepared to meet God? Nope.
I try. It certainly is an idea that was pounded into my head by an Irish-Catholic mother. I just can't imagine being prepared for the End, or at least my End.
My mind drifted a bit as Father went on. I thought of the Marine Corps motto: "Semper Fidelis" (or Semper Fi"): Always faithful. Somehow that makes more sense to me.
Even though my dad had served in the Marine Corps, he was never the type to bark orders or demand that his little girls make a bed you could bounce a quarter on. He was very methodical, however, and very kind. He certainly took his wedding vows seriously, and loved Mom to pieces. She, he assured us, was the one in charge.
The church we were in last night has a gorgeous (Original! Restored!) altar, with Christ's Crucifixion at the center. Faithfully, His mother, Mary Magdalen and St. John stand at the foot of the cross. Were they prepared? I can't imagine any mother being prepared for her child's execution. They were faithful, though.
Faithful means you show up, even if your scared. You speak up, even if your voice shakes. You grab a bottle of wine and maybe a frozen casserole to bring to a friend facing a bad diagnosis. Faithful makes that first or fifth or fortieth wedding anniversary possible, even when we are not prepared at all for the sacrifices required. I sure wasn't prepared for the gargantuan strength it took to manage five teens at home while teaching classrooms of teens at work, but I showed up.
I am not, in any way, saying that I have a solid handle of being faithful. Faith is a mystery, ultimately. And while I am not always prepared, I hope that my showing up for whatever God places in front of me counts as a just a tiny flicker of the faith it took to stand at the foot of the cross. God, of course, is always and perfectly faithful. And I'll stand in that truth any time.
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