“Then the Kingdom of Heaven will be like ten bridesmaids who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise.” (Matthew‬ ‭25:1-2‬ ‭NLT)

Jesus shares a parable about heaven, attempting to keep our capricious hearts engaged. He knows well our predisposition to distraction and temptation.

Five bridesmaids were preoccupied with their groom’s imminent return. Five were not. Five were prepared; they spent every waking moment getting ready for the hour when they would finally belong to their husband forever. Five were distracted; wooed by the world and as the promise of heaven was diminished day by day.

Though they were twenty years ago, I can remember the weeks before our wedding clearly. They were an intoxicating flurry of preparation interlaced with the agonizing ache of wait. I longed to be Rob’s bride. “Forever” together could not begin soon enough.

The parable of the foolish and wise bridesmaids speaks of heart posture. Are we waiting as brides should? Eager and consumed with the promise of marriage, every spare moment spent in preparation and anticipation? Or is the impending nuptial only drudgery? Duty?

Because Jesus isn’t interested in a lackluster bride. He’s coming back to gather a passionate, prepared church. He’s looking for the ones who are fervent for righteousness and relationship over sin and self.

“For I am jealous for you with the jealousy of God himself. I promised you as a pure bride to one husband—Christ. But I fear that somehow your pure and undivided devotion to Christ will be corrupted, just as Eve was deceived by the cunning ways of the serpent.” (2 Corinthians‬ ‭11:2-3‬ ‭NLT)

O Lord, prepare our hearts. May we look to that Glorious Day with eager anticipation and diligent preparation. May we be more than ready and overjoyed when You finally come to gather Your church. It is a privilege to be Your bride. Not a burden, but a blessing. Let us live with hearts convinced; our covenant with You is the best commitment we could ever make. Amen.

“Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place.” (Psalm‬ ‭28:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

“We grieve looking up.” The seasoned prayer warrior said it slow, making certain I’d heard it, making certain the truth had a chance to soak in. Her wise eyes shown with tears. These weren’t trite words offered without tremendous cost. The woman of prayer was well-familiar with sorrow. How could we know God’s heart without also knowing such sadness?

We grieve up. The psalmist said in more words; “I cry… as I lift my hands toward Your holy sanctuary.” It’s tough to lift hands up without also lifting heads. And eventually our hearts follow suit.

She went on. She shared briefly of her own lost babies, wayward children, both parents going home. This woman knew the inner folds of my wounded heart and she explained how all her hurt had sent her to her knees. Sent her to the throne room. Sent her hands in the air and her face thrust upward. She said if we grieve down, we get stuck. She implored; “though I walk THROUGH the valley of the shadow of death” We don’t stay there. We look up and we keep walking.

We grieve up and our tears run down and water our heart, making it good soil, a fine place for the Word to take root. We grieve up and we trust that God will order our steps and walk us right through that valley and into a wide open space again. Into a place where we will one day be a weathered warrior momma ourselves, offering hope and prayers for the next generation.

“My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, Lord, I will seek.” (Psalm‬ ‭27:8‬ NIV)

“He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.” (Psalm‬ ‭18:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

Lord, today we look up. Give us strong necks and strong spirits to keep our eyes set high, even when we are sad. We realize it’s not wrong to grieve, it’s only wrong to get stuck and stay there. Help us remember; when we are faithful to look up, You are faithful to walk us through. We don’t have to live in the Valley of Death forever, we are merely passing through. You have designed and destined us for a better place if we’ll only keep our eyes lifted, looking for Your face. Even amidst sorrow, we see You, Lord. We are confident that You will never disappoint. Amen.

“I can’t carry all these people by myself! The load is far too heavy!”(Numbers‬ ‭11:14‬ NLT)

Here we catch Moses in the midst of a full-on pity party. The people are grumbling and he joins in also. He’s realizing his utter inability to meet their needs.

Sometimes we feel as though we are carrying the entire burden, but the truth is that God is doing most of the heavy lifting. Moses feels responsible for his people, but he wasn’t the One providing manna daily. He wasn’t lighting up the sky as a fire at night or marking the way as a cloud by day. He wasn’t plotting their course or protecting his people from enemy attack. We so quickly wear the weight of responsibility that doesn’t belong to us and is too big for us anyway. We aren’t God. We are only loyal to Him. We listen and obey, we hope and pray that our people will follow suit.

I’ve been thinking about our impending Mayo trip and brain surgery and my responsibility to my big brother. I realize I am over-wearing it. It’s a sound suit too heavy for my frame and it doesn’t belong to me. God is paving our way to Mayo. He’s providing neurosurgeons and wisdom and operating suites and enough grace for all of us along the way.

Worrying or grumbling or gathering the gumption isn’t my responsibility. Gratefully following the cloud, pointing people toward God; that’s what I can manage, what I’m meant to manage, and that’s enough.

“Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people.” (Philippians‬ ‭2:14-15‬ ‭NLT‬)

Bright stars help guide weary travelers home. Our lack of complaint and refusal to grumble may help others see their way into the Promised Land.

Lord, help us see how important attitude is, especially in leadership. Remind us that some things are simply not our problem. ‘Above our pay grade’ is a real deal and those problems belong to You alone. Our responsibilities? Faith and Obedience. And those two godly obligations are enough to keep us occupied all the way across the threshold of forever. Help us lead by example. Let our lives shine as stars in the sky and help others find their way in the dark. Amen.

“Soon the people began to complain about their hardship, and the Lord heard everything they said. Then the Lord’s anger blazed against them, and he sent a fire to rage among them, and he destroyed some of the people in the outskirts of the camp.” (Numbers‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭NLT‬‬)

The people of God were complaining on their way to the Promised Land. On their way; they weren’t there yet. Why did they expect it to be sunshine and lollipops before they had set foot in the sacred space? They were protected and provided for. They were physically close to God. They were en route. Yet they complained and it cost them dearly.

My heart is chided this morning. I have issued a few complaints of my own this past year. Like the Israelites, I’ve been traveling through some tough territory. But God has provided. Protected. Stayed incredibly close every step of the way. I have no grounds for complaint because this ground isn’t my journey’s end; I haven’t reached the Promised Land just yet, so why might I expect easy, fruitful or blessed?

Beloved, each of us are still on the trail, still blazing our way through the terrible wilderness, sustained by the power, presence and perfect leading of our Lord alone. There’s no room for complaint, only praise that we’ve pushed through another day, a few more steps in the right direction.

Gratitude and praise insulate us from complaint. We can’t possibly give thanks and grumble in the same breath. We stay thankful when we far we’ve come, when we remember we aren’t stuck in Egypt any longer. We praise God when we remember that though we haven’t quite reached the Promised Land, we are well on our way and we aren’t still slaves. Our worst day in the wilderness is a walk in the park compared to eternity in the heat and bricks.

It’s the far-off complainers who were burnt up. The ones who were busy keeping their options open, ready to break camp when an easier way of life came into view.

We’ve got to stay close and we’ve got to stay thankful. We live in the center of the camp and in the center of His will. When we are close we can’t hear the whispers of the wilderness over the roar of His faithfulness. When we are close we are walking under the cloud of His glory and sleeping under the fire of His presence.

Sometimes thankfulness in the wilderness costs everything we still have; that’s when it is most crucial. Gratitude fuels faithfulness. We, as God’s people, can’t afford to forget our vows.

“Make thankfulness your sacrifice to God, and keep the vows you made to the Most High.” (Psalms‬ ‭50:14‬ ‭NLT‬‬)

Lord, pull our hearts even closer today. Help us hear and see You in the midst of our wilderness. Remind us, over and over if You have to, that we aren’t home just yet. Life on the road is hard, but we don’t need to waste breath in complaint because we haven’t arrived. We are almost home, if we’ll just stay close and stay grateful. We can see Your protection and provision. Keep us engaged in praise and gratitude as we consider all the ground we’ve covered together. Bring us all the way home as soon as Your ready. Amen.