Keeping The Flame Burning
I have I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the Parable of the Ten Virgins.
It’s always been one of my favorites—right up there with the Prodigal Son. But lately, it’s been sitting a little heavier on my heart. I’ve read it so many times, but this past week, while we were studying Exodus, something clicked in a way I hadn’t seen before.
The story is simple: ten virgins, ten lamps, ten women waiting for the bridegroom. They all expected to be part of the wedding feast. But when the moment finally came, only five were ready, and five were not.
That’s the part that lingers with me.
Because they all had lamps. They all started with fire. But when they needed it the most, half of them had let it burn out.
And as I sat with that, I remembered something from our Exodus study—something about another lamp. The golden lampstand in the Tabernacle. The one that had to be kept burning. The one that required constant attention, constant oil, constant preparation.
It’s not enough to have a lamp. You have to have the oil.
A Fire That Never Goes Out
Back in Exodus, God gave Moses specific instructions about the lampstand. It was the only light inside the Holy Place, and it was never supposed to go out.
The priests had one job: keep it burning.
That meant bringing fresh oil every single day. That meant trimming the wicks so the flame didn’t smoke or flicker. That meant paying attention—because if they got lazy, if they let the oil run low, the fire would die.
That’s exactly what happened to the foolish virgins.
They had lamps, but they didn’t bring extra oil. Maybe they assumed what they had was enough. Maybe they thought the bridegroom would come sooner. Maybe they figured they’d have time to get more later.
But when the moment actually came, they weren’t ready.
The wise virgins didn’t panic because they had been preparing all along. They had what they needed before they needed it.
That’s what made the difference.
What Are We Running On?
Jesus never said the foolish virgins didn’t want to be at the wedding. He never said they weren’t invited. They fully expected to be there.
They just weren’t prepared for the wait.
And the more I think about that, the more I realize how easy it is to be in that same position—to start with fire but assume it will last forever. To let the flame burn low while we focus on other things. To expect that we’ll have time to get serious about God later, without realizing that the oil is running out.
The wise virgins knew something the foolish ones didn’t. They knew that you don’t wait until the last minute to prepare.
You don’t assume that what got you through yesterday will sustain you today.
You don’t let the fire flicker low and hope it won’t go out.
You don’t live on just enough.
You stay filled. You stay ready. You keep your lamp burning because you don’t know when you’ll need it the most.
Keeping the Fire Alive
So how do we make sure we’re like the wise virgins? How do we live in a way that ensures our lamps don’t run dry?
It starts with the oil.
In Scripture, oil represents the Holy Spirit—God’s presence in our lives. It’s what fuels our faith, keeps us burning, sustains us when everything else feels empty. If we don’t stay connected to Him, we run on fumes.
The wise virgins weren’t panicking when the bridegroom arrived because they had already made time to fill their lamps. They didn’t scramble to find what they needed at the last minute. They had extra oil because they had been tending to it all along.
That’s what I want.
I don’t want to assume yesterday’s fire is enough for today.
I don’t want to let my faith run on autopilot and hope it holds up when life gets hard.
I don’t want to be so distracted by everything else that I don’t notice the oil running low.
Because the foolish virgins weren’t out partying. They weren’t living in rebellion. They weren’t rejecting the bridegroom.
They just weren’t paying attention.
Trimming the Wick
The priests in the Tabernacle didn’t just refill the oil—they also trimmed the wicks. If they didn’t, the flame would smoke and flicker, eventually dying out.
And I think about that in my own life.
What are the things that are dulling my fire? What’s clogging my wick, keeping the flame from burning brightly?
For some, it’s distraction—scrolling, entertainment, a mind constantly pulled in a hundred directions.
For others, it’s sin—the little compromises that build up over time, the things we think don’t matter until we realize how much they’ve weighed us down.
For many, it’s just complacency—going through the motions, keeping the lamp but never checking the oil.
And I don’t want that to be me.
The wise virgins made sure their lamps were ready to shine. They were prepared for the long wait, prepared for the unexpected, prepared for the moment they had been waiting for.
They lived like the oil mattered.
And I want to do the same.
A Question Worth Asking
At the end of the parable, the foolish virgins missed the wedding feast. Not because they didn’t want to be there, but because they weren’t ready.
That’s what lingers in my heart as I sit with this story.
I don’t want to be someone who just carries a lamp—I want to be someone who keeps it burning.
I want to be filled with fresh oil.
I want to be intentional about trimming the wick.
I want to live like the flame matters.
Because at the end of the day, having a lamp isn’t enough.
The real question is: Do we have enough oil to last the night?
