Faith Building Friday

Painting © 1984 Gayla Prince Larson

Matthew 2525:1 "Then the kingdom of heaven shall be likened to ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.

25:2 Now five of them were wise, and five were foolish.

25:3 Those who were foolish took their lamps and took no oil with them,

25:4 but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.

25:5 But while the bridegroom was delayed, they all slumbered and slept.

25:6 And at midnight a cry was heard: 'Behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out to meet him!'

25:7 Then all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps.

25:8 And the foolish said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.'

25:9 But the wise answered, saying, 'No, lest there should not be enough for us and you; but go rather to those who sell, and buy for yourselves.'

25:10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came, And those who were ready went in with him to the wedding; and the door was shut.

25:11 Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open to us!'

25:12 But he answered and said, 'Assuredly, I say to you, I do not know you.'

25:13 Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of Man is coming.

My lamp is like a gas tank. If I read and study my scriptures, pray several times that day, and keep service in mind...my lamp fills. As soon as I concentrate too hard on other "worldly" things, my lamp empties quickly. At times I feel I've coasted with the blinking gas light on and sometimes I completely run out of gas. Those days are the days I am in deep depression, thinking only of myself. Other days I feel the tank has been full for days and how can that be? I believe if we are trying our hardest, we are blessed the hardest. We are blessed with eyes that can see where we stand and where we are going when we concentrate on the simple spiritual things in our life. I really enjoy those full tanks that seem to last for days. I feel I can get so much more done, I can feel a greater love for my friends, family, and even strangers. Here's to a lamp not half empty, not half full, but full to the brim!

A poem to finish with:

A parable the Savior told to His disciples long ago

Of wise and also foolish ways, of signs and saints in latter days.

The things He saw, we too can see, when next He comes to you and me.

Ten virgins bearing lamps alight awaited the bridegroom through the night.

Invited, honored guests they came, some wise — some foolish, not the same.

Those who have eyes will surely see, they’re much the same as you and me.

The first bears palms for homage true, an olive branch, a lily, too.

Her voice speaks peace; she’s humble, meek; she often turns the other cheek.

So pure in heart, oh could it be— that this first virgin could be me?

The second, gowned in burial white, seems searching for a heavenly sight.

The sacrament— her gift of love; the wheat and water decreed above.

Her repentant heart we all can see; perhaps this virgin could be me.

Third in Priesthood blue and gold concerns herself with young and old;

ordinances for the living an dead, two doves she brings the prince who weds—

the Holy Ghost and sealings’ key, this lovely virgin must be me.

Tall and fair with scrolls and lyre, the fourth seeks truth and knowledge power.

She sets her goals on talents bright, keeping eternity in sight.

She’ll reach her goals and grow to be the kind of virgin I would be.

But wait, more wise than many others, the fifth gives charity to her brothers.

Quietly, gently, her fruits are shared with all who need her loving care.

Even the foolishes’ needs she sees; oh, that this virgin might be me.

The sixth in proud and rich array lacks for naught along life’s way.

The treasures of the earth she brings; ‘tis more to earth than heav’n she clings.

In her I see a part of me; is this the virgin I will be?

The seventh is surely pleasure’s child, in dress and pose, not meek or mild.

It’s time for eat and drink and fun; there’s ample time ere the bridegroom comes.

Her foolishness she cannot see; do others see that part of me?

The eighth has much to overcome— addictions and excess have quite undone

That temple holy her soul once was, now all eroded for sins’ own cause.

If I’m not careful as can be, this foolish virgin will be me.

The virgin nine who loves the dark, in secret seeks to leave her mark.

Drawing others from the light, she sees all things with Satan’s sithe.

Her foolishness is sad to see; don’t let her be a part of me.

Should I become a virgin ten, with power over the acts of men,

A troubled conscience I might know, as through the busy world I go;

All ego and dishonesty is what the world expects of me.

Am I more foolish or more wise? Am I living in disguise?

Do I gather oil ever bright, to keep my gospel flame alight?

When the bridegroom comes, I pray He’ll see one wise virgin will be me.

Poem © 1985 Barbara G. Dykstra, Mesa, AZ