Matthew 25:14-30 is the parable of the talents; a story of three servants given talents (the equivalent of 20 years’ wages), by their master who was away, travelling for a long time. He shared the talents in accordance with their personal abilities; to one he gave 5 talents, to another 2 and to the last, 1 talent. The first two invested wisely, made returns and remitted profit to their master upon his return. The last servant, and I’ve always been fascinated by her cheek, not only failed to invest wisely but told her master, “I know you to be a harsh AND hard man, reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you did not plant. So in fear, I went and hid my talents. Here, take back what is your own.” The Message version brings it home, the servant says to the master, “Master, I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your money. Here it is, safe and sound down to the last cent”

Of course the Master gives this lazy and rather useless (literally) servant, the telling off that she richly deserves. “The master was furious. ‘That’s a terrible way to live! It’s criminal to live cautiously like that! If you knew I was after the best, why did you do less than the least? The least you could have done would have been to invest the sum with the bankers, where at least I would have gotten a little interest. Take the thousand and give it to the one who risked the most. And get rid of this “play-it-safe” who won’t go out on a limb. Throw him out into utter darkness.” (MSG Bible)

The story of the talents is one of Jesus’ parables that I feel might have been written solely for me. I’m sorry world, this one’s mine.

“I’m a lawyer”, this is often the first thing I say when I’m asked about myself; perhaps it is a defense mechanism to detract people from digging deeper into my personality. Interestingly, if I had my way I wouldn’t practice law, I’d do something else. The jury’s still out on what this “…something else” might be though. But I am a lawyer. In many ways, law is a safety net for me. The cheque at the end of the month represents security for me. The business card I have to hand-out represents security to me. And the fact that “I’m a lawyer” provides a mask to hide behind when confronted by new people, represents security for my inner, realer self. One undergraduate and three postgraduate law degrees later, I have sort of forgotten that I AM not what I DO.

The interesting thing is that from my first year at university, I knew that I was unhappy studying law, that it was neither my true calling nor passion, but I was just too afraid to get out. Security. Law is a good, safe profession. I chose it at 14, secure in the fact that Law was the one subject amongst the limited options I knew about at that time, that I was promised to never ever (EVER) have to solve a mathematical equation in. I’ve always struggled with Math. Law was the only artsy subject, in fact the only humanities degree that seemed solid and secure to my 14-year-old mind. Law is a secure profession. I like security. I focused on getting a Law degree.

I wonder sometimes what God thinks of me. I think God gives us so many talents, I for one know so many things that I know how to do and with minimal exertion, I can do quite well. Yet…I don’t really try to nurture any of these talents. Sometimes, I harbor neither the time nor interest to grow these skills. Other times though, I simply worry about failing, I worry I might look stupid, I worry what people might think of me. I worry about losing the warm, magical comfort of my wonderful blanket, Security. Thinking back now, I wonder what choices I might have made if I trusted that I could not fail. I wonder what I would do today, if I knew that I would neither fail nor regret, if I only thought of MYSELF; my hopes, dreams and desires. What would I do? I don’t know but I do know that I don’t want to tiptoe gently around life only to arrive safely at death. I realize that I would actually and honestly, like to really live.

This week, I experienced my biggest legal epiphany. The pro bono team at work, of which I am a member, secured the freedom of an alleged armed robber. Nine (9) years after being imprisoned for allegedly stealing 23, 000 Naira and a Nokia phone at gun point, Sunday was discharged and the suit struck out for want of diligent prosecution. This ought to have been done long before a now 28-year-old Sunday wasted 9 years of his youth in prison. From the first time we went to visit Kiri Kiri Maximum Security prison, I realized that this is why I became a lawyer. Not to help corporations get out of commitments or search for legal lacunae in legislation. I always wanted to help the underdog…somewhere along the line, my quest for security in the form of money and status, corrupted the purity of my focus.

There are still vestiges of my heart’s intention despite the corruption of commercial practice. I get teased a bit by the other lawyers because from the first time we went to visit Sunday in Kiri Kiri prison, the mix of defeat, brokenness and terrified hope in his eyes always managed to sneak past my organs and clutch at my heart. When we briefed him on the morning of his trial, his eyes almost made me shame my profession by wailing in court. Thankfully, I didn’t. When we won the case and he was released, his shock was evident, he retreated further inward in his disbelief but his eyes continued as always to literally speak books! For the first time, I really understood how far I’ve strayed from the picture my mind created at 14, of being a lawyer.

When I first started studying law (at A-Level no less, how keen!), I really wanted to be a lawyer. I was passionate about the law…or perhaps, what I thought it represented; justice, fairness and me walking in slow motion down corridors of legal powers flanked by men in dark suits and Aviator Ray Bans. And then I got to the LSE and it just.wasnt.like.that. There was a lot of work almost immediately, I hadn’t settled, I wasn’t reading as much as I ought, the days were going too fast, I perhaps elongated Freshers week, I never seemed to really enjoy what I did read and all I could think was “THIS ISN’T WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR!” Whatever the case, I figured I’d sit down over the Christmas break and catch-up properly.

Life is funny. The day after first term ended, my fourth sister died in a plane accident on her way home from school for the Christmas holidays. That one action transformed the course of my existence. All of a sudden, life crystallised for me. I began to understand that at the very core, life means so little. My life is but a breath that can be quenched, without notice, at any time. And I wondered, “What do I really want more than anything in this life?” And I knew the answer immediately; I just want to be happy. Far more than being successful in my legal career-which is what I always thought I wanted the most, I just want to be happy. Unfortunately, the things that make me happy, have nothing to do with Law.

Despite this knowledge, I was still too terrified to leave the profession. How would I explain to my parents? What lesson would I be teaching my younger siblings? What would I study instead?! The whole thing seemed like it would be more trouble than it’d be worth. Now you know I’m all about that SECURRRDDAY! Lol. I stayed…and the ball just kept growing bigger until an avalanche of expectations threatened to suffocate me. After the LSE I was told to get a masters degree, after which of course there was nothing for it but to complete my legal training (“…you’ve already started, just complete it!”) with a law school degree in England. Next, a law school degree from Nigeria was necessary of course (“…it’s the last bit, just do it and don’t waste all that legal education, go to law school”). Next, get a good legal job. Now climb up the corporate legal ladder of course!

Death by an avalanche of expectations… and I am responsible. Responsible for not standing up for myself and taking the unpredictable path more often. For not daring to believe that if I do take a step of faith, one of two things will happen; I will be taught to fly or ground will be created to fall on. Why am I such a slave to security? What am I so afraid of?

The worst bit is that you can’t hide fear. It oozes out, manifesting itself as frustration, anger, sadness, disillusion, unfulfillment and more. For most of this year, I’d been really searching for my purpose in life. I was dissatisfied with my job and generally unfulfilled and I was certain that this was because I’m not working in my purpose. I’ve started to understand though, that purpose is not necessarily a career.

Your purpose refers to the reason you were made. What are you here for? Who were you made to impact? I feel like there’s a connectedness to the universe, some sort of purpose for everyone’s being and if you don’t achieve that then you might not only be truncating your destiny but might be affecting the trajectory of someone else’s. Purpose I think lies in discovering what I can do to most effectively impact others and add value in my time here on earth. What we excel at, what we are passionate about, what we can sustainably engage in and reap fulfillment as the chief reward determines the reason we were made; our purpose. This will differ for each of us in accordance with our abilities. Like the talents in the parable, each person is given something to work with in accordance to their personal ability. Some 5, others 2 and yet still others, 1. So, each person already has inside, all that it takes to fulfill purpose, to find passion and that happiness that comes from being certain of your place in the world.

Because purpose is birth in God’s heart, it seems sensible that the closer we are to Him, the clearer it is to hear Him and consequently, to understand our direction. I’m just trying to trust the process, to believe that if God gives me a dream, however big, then I am sufficient -enough in myself- to carry it. The Bible describes it pithily, “He who He calls, He equips.”

From the third servant in the Parable, the one who returns to the master with everything the master gave her, I understood one thing; there is nothing worse than dying full. Not dying young or dying poor but dying full. What could be worse than returning to God with everything that He gave to you having done nothing with any of it, like the Third Servant in the Parable? Returning without having lived or done any lasting good or been part of something bigger than yourself, your own individualized hopes and desires.

Too many of us will die full to the brim with talent, ideas, businesses. This is a shame considering how many destinies each of us is put on earth to affect. I love Beyonce’s ‘I Was Here’, it’s such a profound song. We will not all be lucky to be called U.N Ambassadors but everyone of us is lucky enough to be here, to be present, to be usable. Why do we waste this opportunity?

My friend Tomi is doing part of her work experience as a doctor at Imperial College’s medical school, in Ghana. She’s found an orphanage and was telling me about the amazing, middle-income couple that runs it with all their income. She said to me, “Wendy, my prayer is that God opens our eyes to see where we can help.” I told her, “Tomi, I wish God touches our hearts to help when our eyes are open.”

No one should return to heaven full.