Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.” (Revelation 19:6–8)
God is the greatest storyteller the world has ever known, and the story He tells is still unfolding. From the first breath of creation in Genesis to the final benediction of grace in Revelation, the Bible is not just a sacred text; it is a sweeping, unbroken love story and a divine narrative that begins with a garden and ends with a wedding.
All throughout Jesus’ earthly ministry, He taught in parables, earthly stories with heavenly meaning, because some truths are too holy to be stated plainly. They must be seen, felt, lived and marriage, perhaps more than any other symbol, has always been one of God's clearest parables, whispering the promise of Christ, the Bridegroom, and His soon-coming return for a radiant Church.
This past weekend, I found myself front-row at such a parable. As two of my dear friends exchanged vows, it felt less like a ceremony and more like a glimpse behind the veil. A moment where heaven met earth and the story of God was being told once again, not in words, but in covenant, in love and in waiting. As I watched and reflected on the couple’s journey, the Spirit of God asked a question; Will you be the bride who makes herself ready? Will you wait for me?
The couple on display, my friends LK and J, have been together for six years before reaching this most important milestone. Starting out in college and then progressing through the many stages of early life, theirs has been a story of waiting and sacrifice, and through them, God was teaching me again why the parable of marriage is second to none. From seasons of long distance, living on opposite coasts while navigating the demands of school, work, and purpose, to the quiet choices they made daily, to honor, to forgive, and to hope, their story is not just a love story, it is a shadow of something greater. A mirror held up to the mystery of Christ and His Church.
Because this is the shape of true covenant: joy that has been refined in the furnace of delay. Love that does not grow faint in waiting. Devotion that remains when the feeling fades, when time stretches longer than expected, and when faith must do the heavy lifting. As I stood there watching them exchange vows, it felt as if the Holy Spirit whispered, “Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come.” What a line and declaration, it echoed not just in that chapel, but in my spirit, because this was not just about LK and J. This was about all of us. About a Bride preparing herself with patience, trimming her lamp, and waiting in holiness for her Bridegroom to appear.
In their union, I saw our future hope. In their vows, I heard the sound of Revelation 19 breaking into the present. This wasn’t just a wedding, it was a rehearsal. A prophetic glimpse of that final, glorious day when the waiting ends and the joy begins. But until then, we watch, we ready ourselves and we wait faithfully and expectantly. But not all waiting is equal, for Christ tells us about the ten virgins in Matthew and implicitly asks which type of virgin we are.
What Kind of Virgin?
“At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. The wise ones, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep. At midnight the cry rang out: ‘Here’s the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’” (Matthew 25:1–6)
Jesus doesn’t mince words here. All ten were invited, all ten had lamps and all ten fell asleep. But only five had oil and that made all the difference. The oil in this parable represents preparation, but not the kind that’s done for show. This isn’t the oil of performance or the polish of public religion. It’s the quiet, costly kind. The kind you store up in secret. The kind accumulated through surrender, through obedience when no one’s watching, through repentance and transformation. The oil is your inner life with God. It’s the fruit of intimacy and no one else can gather it for you.
We are all waiting, bride and guest, servant and saint, but not all waiting is equal. Some wait faithfully, others carelessly. Some keep watch; others get swept up in the noise of the world. The foolish virgins had lamps, but they had no oil, no preparation for the delay, no depth for the moment of glory. When the cry went out, they had nothing to show for their waiting. Their recklessness was revealed by the timing of the Bridegroom.
What we do in the delay matters and frankly our entire earthly journey is a stop on the way to our happy ever after with Christ. Whether it’s faithfulness in the mundane or compromise hidden beneath the surface, the waiting exposes us. Will we be ready? Will we still have oil? Will we be found burning with love or simply holding an empty lamp? This urgency is not to panic, but to prepare because the delay is not denial, it’s mercy. It’s time to fill our jar and ready for the coming of Christ. It is time to watch and wait with wisdom for Jesus is coming and midnight cry will sound but only those with oil will rise to meet Him.
So, the question must be asked again: What kind of virgin are you?
The Wedding That Never Ends
I delight greatly in the Lord; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. (Isaiah 61:10)
It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge the obvious limitations of the wedding analogy when speaking of our eternal union with Christ. For earthly marriages, it’s often said that the real work begins after the ceremony. The vows are the easy part, it’s the life that follows that tests them. Couples must learn how to love in new ways, to navigate unspoken tensions and unmet expectations. They must agree on thermostat settings and dinner duties, endure the long days, forgive quickly, and choose again and again to remain.
But heaven is different.
There, the waiting ends. The striving ceases. The labor is over. There are no more seasons to weather or sacrifices to endure, only the fullness of joy in the presence of our Bridegroom. There are no disagreements, no distractions, no distance. We won’t need to work to stay close to Him, we will be one, perfectly united, clothed forever in righteousness and radiant with glory.
The joy won’t be fleeting. The love won’t grow tired. The dance floor will never empty. The celebration will not fade into routine. We won’t be preparing for anything else, we will have arrived. The beauty of the bride will be no longer in her striving, but in her shining. This is the joy we wait for, this is the end that has no end. The marriage supper of the Lamb is not a gateway to more labor; it is the final exhale of all who have longed for His appearing.
This is the truest “happily ever after,” not because it avoids suffering, but because it brings it to completion. The bride has made herself ready. The Groom has come and the kingdom, at last, is consummated in joy. So, while we wait now in faithfulness, we also wait with hope, because when He comes, the waiting gives way to wonder and every oil-stored moment will have been worth it. Even so, come Lord Jesus.
Finally, to my dear friends LK and J, may the Lord bless you and keep you. May your union continue to echo the greater covenant Christ came to fulfill. May your love for one another be rooted in your love for Him, ever growing, ever deepening, ever pointing heavenward. May your days together be a foretaste of the joy that is to come. May we all, one day, join you at an even greater celebration, at the wedding banquet of the Lamb, where every vow finds its fulfillment, every tear is wiped away, and the Bridegroom welcomes us home. Until then, keep your lamps burning.
Prayer While Waiting
Jesus, my Bridegroom and King,
I hear the sound of the wedding march in the distance. I feel it stirring in my soul, this holy anticipation for the day You return. You are the One my heart longs for, and I want to be found ready.
Clothe me in Your righteousness and adorn me with the garments of salvation. Fill my lamp with oil, quiet, hidden, costly oil that comes from intimacy with You. Forgive me for the times I’ve grown careless in the waiting or distracted by lesser things.
Teach me to love You in the secret place, to obey even when no one sees, to repent deeply and walk in faithfulness. I want to wait well. I want to burn brightly. I want to rise with joy when the midnight cry rings out.
Thank You that this delay is not denial, it is mercy and time for preparation. It is time to return and time to be made ready. Make me radiant with Your glory and steady in hope.
Until that day, keep me watchful, keep me faithful, keep me burning.
Amen.