O Sovereign Bridegroom,
My heart trembles at Your Word.
You are coming know You are coming.
But will I be ready when the cry rings out?
Will my lamp be lit, my hands steady, my heart awakened in love?
Or have I lived as one of the foolish
slumbering in comfort, assuming I had more time,
nodding off with the door of eternity just ahead?
Oh God have I brought oil?
Not performance. Not busyness. Not appearances.
But oil the oil of intimacy, the oil of surrender.
Have I met You in the secret place?
Have I tended the flame, fed it in the quiet watches of the night?
Or have I grown lazy with grace,
treating mercy like something I can borrow at the last minute?
I confess
I’ve been distracted.
I’ve been tired.
I’ve let the temporary drown out the eternal.
I’ve waited for emotion to drive me when obedience should have sustained me.
I’ve let the oil run low.
But Lord, I want to be wise.
Teach me to store what cannot be borrowed
faithfulness in obscurity,
love in hardship,
obedience in silence,
worship when no one watches.
Let my lamp burn not for applause,
but because I truly long for You,
because I ache to see the Bridegroom’s face.
You have entrusted me with gifts talents, time, people, truth.
And I know there are places I’ve buried what You meant to multiply.
Fear made me hide.
Pain made me cautious.
Comparison made me doubt.
Pride made me self protect.
And now the weight of wasted moments presses heavy.
But I refuse to stay buried.
Breathe on the soil of my heart, Lord.
Unbury the talents.
Awaken the courage to risk, to sow, to serve.
Let me be found investing what You gave me
whether in big ways or quiet faithfulness.
I want to return it to You with joy,
not shame.
And when You come in glory riding not on a donkey but in divine majesty,
when the nations are gathered before Your throne,
I don’t want to be surprised at how You come.
I don’t want to have missed You
in the hungry, the stranger, the sick, the prisoner.
I don’t want to be the one who asked,
“When did we see You?”
Open my eyes, Lord.
Make me interruptible.
Make me kind when no one notices.
Make me generous even when it costs.
Make my hands and feet move with love
not for reward, but because I have already been loved by You.
You say, Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for Me.
Oh God make my life a continual “yes” to You.
In the ordinary, in the small, in the inconvenient.
Let me welcome You without knowing it
and let my reward be not riches, but relationship.
Let it be You.
I do not want to hear, “Truly, I do not know you.”
Please, Jesus know me.
Know me in my weakness,
know me in my longing.
Mark me as Yours today, and always.
Let my life echo with one desire:
To hear You say,
“Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master.”
That is the only reward I want.
That is the only sentence I want my life to earn.
Until that Day
Keep me awake.
Keep me burning.
Keep me loving.
Keep me watching.
Keep me faithful.
In Jesus’ holy, searching, and precious name,
Amen.