“So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” – Psalm 90:12 (KJV)

I was tidying up earlier today when my mind drifted back to August 2023. It was Camp Meeting back home in Nigeria — the first Sunday, to be exact.

That same day here in Canada, after our afternoon service, we were invited to a family friend’s home for dinner. While we were there, we decided to tune in to the Camp Meeting Evangelistic Service in Lagos. To my surprise, the preacher on the screen was my dad. I knew he had an assignment during Camp Meeting, but I hadn’t known exactly when it was. That day, I got to watch him deliver what I didn’t realize would be his last Camp Meeting sermon. In fact, his last Camp Meeting altogether.

That memory has been sitting with me today. The truth is, we often make plans assuming there will always be another tomorrow. Another chance. Another birthday. Another outing. But one day, there won’t be.

Not long ago, I reached out to one of my aunties with a quick message to check in. I promised to call her over the weekend so we could have a proper conversation. She responded with such warmth that my heart was glad just reading her reply. But the weekend got busy, and I never made that call. What I didn’t know then was that her message would be the last exchange we’d ever share. She passed away shortly after, and now that opportunity is gone.

Both of these memories remind me of the same truth: our “lasts” often arrive without warning. A last sermon, a last message, a last visit. We rarely see them for what they are until they’re behind us.

And that’s why consistency matters. We don’t prepare for life’s endings in one grand moment. We prepare through a lifetime of small, steady choices — like the wise virgins in Jesus’ parable. The bridegroom was coming, and only those who had been faithful beforehand were ready when the door opened. The foolish virgins knew the truth, but they weren’t intentional enough to carry extra oil. By the time they scrambled, it was too late.

Embedded in this parable is the quiet strength of consistency. The wise virgins had kept replenishing their oil, perhaps over and over again without ever seeing the need for it. It might have felt like a repetitive, unnecessary ritual — until the very night it mattered.

Isn’t that how life works?

We pray daily even when heaven feels silent.

We save little by little even when the account balance looks unchanged.

We parent with patience even when we don’t see fruit right away.

We keep showing up for people even when it seems unnoticed.

It can feel tiring, pointless, and even tempting to quit. But the very day we stop may be the day we need that oil most.

That’s why consistency is never wasted effort. The disciplines that feel ordinary now are the very things that prepare us for the extraordinary moments to come.

Lately, I’ve been asking myself some hard questions:

• Am I intentional about how I’m living, or am I letting the pressures of life push me into passivity?
• Am I showing up in the places that matter most—my walk with God, my marriage, my children, my choices?
• Have I allowed areas of my life to slip into neglect?

Honestly, the answer is yes to some of these. But thankfully, God has been waking me up again.

And perhaps this is also a wake-up call for you. What’s one thing you’ve been postponing? What step is fully within your power to take today? What habit, though it feels small or repetitive, might be the oil you’ll be glad you stored up when it matters most?

It’s my prayer that God gives us the grace to remain consistent in doing the things He has called us to do, even when we don’t yet see the results. That He teaches us to treasure each moment as though it could be our last, and to pour ourselves fully into the life He has placed in our hands. Because someday, it would be our last.

Categories: My Christian Beliefs, My Devotionals

Tags: Christian, Christian Living, Christianity, Devotional, Faith, Faith and consistency, Intentional living, Legacy, living with the end in mind, parable of the wise and foolish virgins, Prayer, Reflections