Wise People Prepare for What They Know Will Come.

Message 4 of 4 in the “Walking in Wisdom” series

November 9, 2025

A couple of weeks ago in Bible study, someone said, “I’m putting the hose away.” If you live in an area where it freezes in the wintertime, you know exactly what that means. The air is getting colder. The daylight is sliding away. People start coiling their hoses, draining the lines, and covering their outdoor spigots with those little foam caps.

Why do we do that? Because we know what’s coming. We don’t know the precise night the freeze will hit, but we know it will happen. And if you leave your hose connected, you’re going to wake up one morning with a burst pipe or a cracked faucet.

That isn’t fear. It’s foresight. It’s wisdom. Wisdom looks ahead and prepares for what is certain, even when the timing is unknown.

Jesus told a story about that kind of wisdom. It’s the parable of the ten virgins — ten bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom to arrive so the wedding celebration could begin. Five were wise and brought extra oil for their torches. Five were foolish and brought no extra oil at all.

When the bridegroom took longer than expected, they all became drowsy and fell asleep. But at midnight, the shout rang out: “Here’s the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!” The wise lit their torches and entered the procession. The foolish were left scrambling in the dark.

It’s a picture of living ready for what you know is coming.

A Wedding and a Warning

In Jesus’ day, weddings had two stages. First came betrothal, which wasn’t just engagement, it was legally binding. Dissolving it required a divorce. After the betrothal came a waiting period while the groom prepared a home for his new bride, often by building an extra room onto his father’s house.

This is why Jesus says, “In my Father’s house are many rooms… I go to prepare a place for you.” He’s drawing on the image of a bridegroom who goes away to get everything ready, then returns to bring his bride home.

When preparations were complete, the groom and his friends would walk through the village at night, carrying torches, singing, laughing, making joyful noise as they came for the bride. The bridesmaids would be waiting with their own torches, ready to join the procession.

These weren’t little clay oil lamps. They were torches—sticks wrapped with oil-soaked rags that burned brightly for ten to fifteen minutes before needing to be soaked again. The wise bridesmaids brought extra oil. The foolish didn’t.

When the groom was delayed, everyone dozed off. But when the cry came—“He’s here!”—the wise soaked their rags in fresh oil and lit them. The foolish found theirs sputtering and going out. They begged for oil, but the wise ones knew that they would all run out if oil for five was shared among ten. The only option was to run off and buy some.

We might think, “Oil dealers at midnight? Really?” But in a small village where merchants lived behind their shops, it wasn’t impossible. People did get woken in the night for urgent needs. But by the time the foolish bridesmaids returned, the wedding had already begun, the door was shut, and they were left outside.

The Foolishness of Unpreparedness

Jesus’ point is clear: it is foolish not to prepare for what you know is certain.

We don’t know when Jesus will return. We don’t know when our own earthly life will end. But we do know that both are certain. That’s not meant to frighten us. It’s simply reality. Wisdom says: live prepared.

For many of us, the danger isn’t outright denial. It’s distraction. The grind of everyday life crowds out the long view. We live like the present moment is all there is. But faith plays the long game. The bridegroom may take longer than we expect, but he will come.

And it is foolish not to be ready for what we know will certainly happen.

Readiness Begins With Rest

Here is the grace in this story: readiness is not frantic spiritual striving. It’s not performance. It’s not hopping around with an anxious heart, trying to convince God—or yourself—that you’re worthy.

Readiness begins with rest. Isaiah says, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” That is the heart of readiness.

Before you do anything, remember this: you belong. Jesus has already made you His own. You do not prepare in order to be accepted. You prepare because you are accepted. Your life is already held in His hands.

You Can’t Borrow Someone Else’s Oil

When the foolish bridesmaids realized their torches were out, they tried to borrow oil. But you can’t borrow faith. You can’t borrow repentance. You can’t borrow someone else’s relationship with Jesus.

Paul says in Galatians, “Each will have to bear his own load.” That’s not harsh—it’s freeing. Your readiness isn’t measured by someone else’s spiritual life. It’s about your own heart turned toward Jesus.

If you’ve been leaning on borrowed faith—your spouse’s, your parents’, or even your congregation’s—maybe this is the moment to say, “Lord, give me oil of my own. Kindle in me a living faith.”

Growing While You Wait

Readiness also means growth. Paul writes that we are to “grow up in every way into Christ.” That doesn’t mean being busy. It means maturing in love, deepening in trust, rooting your life in the Word, and allowing the Holy Spirit to shape your heart.

Sometimes it means paying attention to the neglected parts of your spiritual life. If you’re strong in study but weak in compassion, let God stretch your heart. If you’re strong in serving but weak in Scripture, let the Word sink deeper. If you’re strong in emotion but weak in discernment, let your mind be renewed.

Play to your strengths, but tend to your weaknesses. Head, heart, and hands all matter, and neglect in any area makes the flame flicker.

What Lies Ahead

At the end of the parable, the bridegroom arrives, the procession enters the feast, and the door closes. Jesus leaves the story there. The question hanging in the air is simple: Are you living like the bridegroom will truly come?

But this isn’t about fear. It’s about belonging. The bridegroom is not coming for your achievements, your résumé, or your ministry output. He’s coming for you—for the beloved child of God He knows by name.

When He comes, whatever oil remains will be enough, because readiness isn’t about how steady your hands are. It’s about how faithful His promise is.

So coil the hose. Cover the faucet. Trim the wick. Live wisely. Live awake. And rest in the joy of knowing that what lies ahead is not loss, but homecoming.