There is a quiet danger in comfort.
We tell ourselves there will be time — time to change, time to get serious about our walk with the Lord, time to lay aside distractions and finally live the life He calls us to. But if we listen closely to the teachings of Jesus, we hear a steady drumbeat beneath His words: Be ready.
Jesus tells a story about ten virgins waiting for the bridegroom. They all had lamps. They all intended to meet him. But only half carried the oil they would need when he delayed.
“The bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut.” (Matthew 25:10 ESV).
The door was shut. Not because the others weren’t invited, but because they weren’t ready.
It was the same in the days of Noah. Life went on—people eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, building futures they believed would stretch out forever. But the sky darkened, and the rain began to fall. And by the time they realized the danger, it was too late. The door to the ark was already closed.
“For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.
For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark,
and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.” (Matthew 24:37-39 ESV).
We live in that same kind of world now — a world rocked to sleep by distractions. Satan doesn’t always need to tempt us with great sins. Sometimes, all he needs is a calendar so full, a heart so tired, and a mind so entertained that we stop watching for the King.
Paul’s words wake us up:
“For he says,
‘In a favorable time I listened to you,
and in a day of salvation I have helped you.’
Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Corinthians 6:2 ESV).
Now. Not later. Not when it’s convenient. Not when we feel ready.
We don’t prepare for the Lord’s return by grand gestures. We prepare by living ready hearts every day. It’s about filling our lamps when nobody is looking. It’s about building an ark, one obedient plank at a time, while the sun is still shining.
We forgive even when it’s hard.
We serve even when no one notices.
We love even when it costs us something.
We stay awake even when the world around us has fallen asleep.
Every day we choose the Kingdom over comfort, we drive another nail into the ark of faith.
Every day we store up oil for the moment the midnight cry rings out: “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.”
We have to ask ourselves: if the trumpet sounds today, will we rise to meet Him, or will we scramble in the darkness looking for oil we should have prepared long ago?
Peter warns us:
“But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.” (2 Peter 3:10 ESV).
The floodwaters came suddenly. The bridegroom arrived unexpectedly. And the Lord will return without warning.
But we don’t have to be caught off guard.
We don’t have to be swept away.
We have today — this precious, fleeting day — to live like people who are waiting for the Lord.
Let’s not waste it.
Before the rain falls.
I am in the book of Philippians in my daily Bible reading. Paul opens the letter to these saints by telling them that his imprisonment serves to advance the Gospel:
“I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel,
so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ.
And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.” (Philippians 1:12-14 ESV).
Isn’t this amazing? Rather than fret over his circumstances or blame God, Paul rejoices that his imprisonment is a way for Jesus to be glorified.
When he writes this to the church at Philippi, he is serving a two-year imprisonment while awaiting trial during his first confinement in Rome. Luke ends his book with a glimpse into this very moment:
“He lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him,
proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance.” (Acts 28:30-31 ESV).
It was likely during this imprisonment that Paul wrote this letter. In fact, he goes on to write one of the most joyous and encouraging letters in the entire New Testament—all while chained and confined for his faith.
If you remember, his fellow believers had tried to persuade him not to go to Jerusalem because the Spirit revealed he would be bound. But Paul was resolved. He went anyway, knowing full well that chains and affliction were waiting for him. That choice—born of obedience—ultimately led to his imprisonment in Rome.
If only we could see through the eyes of Paul when we face trials for the name of Jesus. If only we could write words of hope to others while suffering through our own chains of affliction. If only we could lift others up and glorify God instead of becoming consumed by our own pain and circumstances.
It was in that same Roman imprisonment that Paul penned one of his most beloved declarations of faith:
“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13 ESV).
This isn’t about acing a test, winning a football game, becoming a CEO, or losing 100 pounds. It’s about being strengthened to endure trials, opposition, and hardship for the sake of Christ.
And Paul didn’t just say it—he lived it. While imprisoned in Rome. Awaiting trial. For his unshakable loyalty to King Jesus.
Just a light-hearted observation from my daily Bible reading this morning:
“Go out, O daughters of Zion, and look upon King Solomon, with the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, on the day of the gladness of his heart.” (Song of Songs 3:11 ESV).
Bathsheba must’ve had that crown on standby.
She probably kept it polished and ready by the door—after all, with that many weddings (see 1 Kings 11:3), she had to have been a crowning professional by the end.
I am in the book of 1 Chronicles in my daily Bible reading. In Chapter 4, we read a favorite passage among those who teach the prosperity gospel.
Jabez was the most honorable man of all his brothers. He called upon the Lord, asking for His blessings.
“Jabez called upon the God of Israel, saying, ‘Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!’ And God granted what he asked.” (1 Chronicles 4:10 ESV).
This is often called the prayer of Jabez, and many are encouraged to repeat it with the belief that God will do the same for them. But hidden inside this short verse is a far more powerful message than a promise of prosperity.
Here’s what stood out to me.
First, Jabez was already an honorable man. That part is often skipped over. Long before his borders were enlarged, he lived in faithful obedience to God. He wasn’t bargaining. He wasn’t trying to earn something. His life already reflected the kind of heart God honors.
Second, Jabez had a right view of God. While others relied on their own strength, wealth, or family name, Jabez turned to the Lord. He knew where his blessings came from—and where they didn’t. His request wasn’t rooted in entitlement, but in faith. He asked because he knew only God could give what mattered most.
And third, we see God act—but not mechanically. This wasn’t a transaction. Jabez didn’t repeat a magic phrase and unlock divine rewards. God heard. And God chose. The blessing came not because of the words, but because of the heart—and God’s sovereign will.
That’s the deeper lesson here. This isn’t a formula. It’s a window into the relationship between a faithful man and a generous God. We don’t control God with our words. We appeal to His character, and we wait for His will.
When we ask God to “enlarge our borders,” we’re not asking for more stuff. We’re asking for more impact, more opportunities, more territory for His glory. And we do it knowing He is the One who grants, the One who withholds, and the One who sees what we cannot.
Let’s live like Jabez—honorably.
Let’s pray like Jabez—with humility and confidence.
And let’s trust like Jabez—waiting patiently for God to act, not on our schedule, but in His perfect sovereignty.
That is the powerful message I take away from the prayer of Jabez.
I’m visiting the Kings Ridge Church with my son in Lubbock. In class, we’re studying all the Kings of Israel and Judah. To say it bluntly, it’s a mess. Murder, idolatry, war, intrigue… You can see what life is like when men elevate themselves and forget about God.
All this started in the days of Samuel when God’s people said that they wanted a King to be like the nations around them, and rejected God as their king.
Let’s think twice before we decide to be like the people around us. It usually leads to someplace away from the glory and peace found in our Lord and King, Jesus.
I am in the book of 1 Chronicles in my daily Bible reading. The book ends by summing up all that David had done to provide for the building of the temple of God.
David would never see the temple completed. That assignment belonged to Solomon. But that didn’t stop David from working. He gathered materials. He made plans. He gave instructions. He offered prayers. He gave generously from his own wealth and inspired others to do the same.
David set his son up for success.
“All this he made clear to me in writing from the hand of the Lord, all the work to be done according to the plan.” (1 Chronicles 28:19 ESV)
“Then David said to Solomon his son, ‘Be strong and courageous and do it. Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed, for the Lord God, even my God, is with you.’” (1 Chronicles 28:20 ESV)
Fathers, what are we doing to prepare our sons for the work of the Lord after we depart this life?
Are we laying a foundation of faith and generosity? Are we equipping them with wisdom, example, and encouragement? Are we helping them see that God’s work will go on long after we’re gone—and that they have a part to play in it?
May we have the heart of David and the foresight to provide for our children whatever we can so they can be successful in their work for the Lord. And may we take joy in knowing that even if we don’t get to see the temple finished, we had a hand in gathering the stones.