You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I once attended a seminar on personal finance and learned this: if you do not choose to invest your money, you are in effect choosing to lose your money, as it gradually loses value with the rate of inflation. Not choosing means losing.
A biblical exemplar of “not choosing” is the third servant in Jesus’ parable of the talents, or coins: “The one who had received the five coins went off at once and traded with them, and made five more coins. In the same way, the one who had the two coins made two more coins. But the one who had received the one coin went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.”
Why would this last servant think it a wise move to hide the money? He was afraid of losing it; this seemed a risk-free strategy. Turns out he was also afraid of his master, telling him when he returns from his journey: “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.”
This guy does not think very highly of his master’s integrity – he as much as calls him harsh, dishonest, a thief "appropriating" what is not his to take. Nor does this servant appreciate the trust placed in him – he can’t wait to be rid of the burden: “Here you have what is yours.”
Who does Jesus intend this servant to represent? Another way to ask that is: what does it mean to invest our "talents" in the spiritual life? To me, investment means full-on engagement in the life of faith – orienting our lives to moving in the mission of God, praying with bold expectation, taking risks in ministry, risking disorder, disdain, disappointment. It’s radical trust in the Spirit of God to lead and guide us. It’s saying and praying, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
By contrast, burying our “talent” is playing it safe, laying low. Instead of radical trust, we exhibit radical mistrust in the power and promises of God. We focus on institutional religion and its rituals, and pay way more attention to the unanswered prayers and things that didn’t work than to our victories in God. We allow ourselves to become bench-warmers (or pew-warmers…), disabled and sidelined. The master in Jesus’ story has no patience with this: “But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy servant! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the coin from him, and give it to the one with the ten coins.”
Which servant do you feel most like today? The big risk-taker investing all five of her coins, the moderate one with the two – or the one who plays it so safe he accomplishes less than nothing?
If you’re in the latter category, faith-wise – what’s holding you back? Do you mistrust God because of some pain that you feel God allowed, did not prevent? Prayers you did not see answered? Do you see God as a harsh judge, or as loving parent? You can afford to be honest with God. Allow the Spirit to pour some healing balm into those wounds, and think about trusting again.
The great thing about being a servant and not a master is that we don’t have to worry about results. We just have to follow orders and give it our all, and let God bring about the outcome. The very act of stepping out in faith, Jesus suggests, allows God to work through us – and the yield is abundant.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Water Daily
A spiritual reflection to encourage and inspire you as you go about your day. Just as many plants need water daily, so do our root systems if they are to sustain us as we eat, work, exercise, rest, play, talk, interact with people we know, don't know, those in between - and the creation in which we live our lives.
11-10-26 - Double or Nothing
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I wish I knew the investment strategist guiding these guys in Jesus’ story: “The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents.”
I don’t know what a “talent” is worth, but doubling your money is always a good deal. If my math is correct, each of these servants got a 100% rate of return. And I don’t know how sophisticated Jesus’ command of math was (if he could conquer death he could handle calculus, right?), but I read into that percentage a symbol of wholeness.
This is a parable about faithfulness, not finance. As we invest faithfully the assets God has given us, we realize wholeness. And if we believe that the mission of God is to restore all of creation to wholeness, we get a big clue about how we as followers of Christ are to go about participating in God’s mission. One message of this parable is: Our acts of faith will yield fruit, 100% worth. Our holding back in fear? Nothing.
And we should expect big yields! We’ve grown so timid, so many of us nth-generation Christ-followers. For too long we have dwelt in the land of diminishing returns, our attendance and budgets and staffs shrinking, our giving tepid, our children fleeing what we know as “church,” our neighbors disinterested in joining us. So we adjust our expectations downward – and maybe we hold back on our investment of faith and energy too. And all the while it may just be that God is leading us to do church in a new way.
This parable invites us to look up and remember who called us to those tired buildings in the first place. The Lord of Heaven and Earth says, “Join me – I am making all things new! Here, I give you all these riches, freely, your inheritance. Now plow it back into our Family Business. Let’s see what 100% growth looks like.” And you know, when we expect 100% , we’re more apt to realize it.
In what places in your life do you believe you reap a mighty return on investment of your time and energy? What feels fruitful? Why do you suppose that part works?
Where do you feel you get nothing back, or see returns diminishing? Might you ask Jesus to show you a new way to invest in that area? Maybe we need some new methods.
100% growth. I like it. it starts with our hearts and our faith and our actions, opening ourselves to the nudgings of the Holy Spirit. We can’t do it without God, and it seems God won’t do it without us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I wish I knew the investment strategist guiding these guys in Jesus’ story: “The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents.”
I don’t know what a “talent” is worth, but doubling your money is always a good deal. If my math is correct, each of these servants got a 100% rate of return. And I don’t know how sophisticated Jesus’ command of math was (if he could conquer death he could handle calculus, right?), but I read into that percentage a symbol of wholeness.
This is a parable about faithfulness, not finance. As we invest faithfully the assets God has given us, we realize wholeness. And if we believe that the mission of God is to restore all of creation to wholeness, we get a big clue about how we as followers of Christ are to go about participating in God’s mission. One message of this parable is: Our acts of faith will yield fruit, 100% worth. Our holding back in fear? Nothing.
And we should expect big yields! We’ve grown so timid, so many of us nth-generation Christ-followers. For too long we have dwelt in the land of diminishing returns, our attendance and budgets and staffs shrinking, our giving tepid, our children fleeing what we know as “church,” our neighbors disinterested in joining us. So we adjust our expectations downward – and maybe we hold back on our investment of faith and energy too. And all the while it may just be that God is leading us to do church in a new way.
This parable invites us to look up and remember who called us to those tired buildings in the first place. The Lord of Heaven and Earth says, “Join me – I am making all things new! Here, I give you all these riches, freely, your inheritance. Now plow it back into our Family Business. Let’s see what 100% growth looks like.” And you know, when we expect 100% , we’re more apt to realize it.
In what places in your life do you believe you reap a mighty return on investment of your time and energy? What feels fruitful? Why do you suppose that part works?
Where do you feel you get nothing back, or see returns diminishing? Might you ask Jesus to show you a new way to invest in that area? Maybe we need some new methods.
100% growth. I like it. it starts with our hearts and our faith and our actions, opening ourselves to the nudgings of the Holy Spirit. We can’t do it without God, and it seems God won’t do it without us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
11-9-26 - Investment
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Jesus was a versatile communicator, ably connecting with diverse audiences. To describe the realm of God, he told stories of sheep, vineyards, bread-baking, house-cleaning, farming, crime victims, rebellious sons, foolish bridesmaids. This week we explore a parable set in the world of finance, a story of investment, stewardship, trust and mistrust. Like last week’s, this parable illuminates Jesus’ warning:
“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” – of the final judgment, that is.
To give his followers a clue what it means to live “awake” (not, perhaps, the same as “woke”…), he tells a story about three servants to whom someone entrusted his wealth: “For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his servants and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.”
A simple enough story on the surface; if you read to the end (spoiler alert!), you know that the two who invested their funds were rewarded, while the one who protected his master’s investment was roundly condemned. We'll focus on them another day. Today let’s consider how the language of investment can draw us into the Life of God.
"Investment" is a word I use a lot in stewardship season, inviting congregants to make financial pledges on which the church will base its budget. Our giving is an investment in what God is up to at our churches. Beyond "seeking support," or "meeting needs," investment is active, participatory; when we invest in something, we look for returns, maybe even work to improve the returns.
The life of faith might be seen as an exercise in wealth management. Our God, who made it all and owns it all, has invested tremendous wealth in us. God has given us life, gifts, relationships, work, ministries, joy, love – not to keep and hoard but to tend and nurture for growth. God wants to see great returns on the investment God makes with us – our children growing healthy and independent, our marriages becoming more than the sum of two partners, our work lives fruitful in ways that expand possibilities for others, our ministries fostering faith, and all of us working for peace and equity. All of this “good fruit,” to use Jesus’ phrase, comes from our returning the trust God has invested in us by our investing in one another, in this world, and in the mission of God to reclaim, restore and renew all things to wholeness in Christ.
Jesus was a versatile communicator, ably connecting with diverse audiences. To describe the realm of God, he told stories of sheep, vineyards, bread-baking, house-cleaning, farming, crime victims, rebellious sons, foolish bridesmaids. This week we explore a parable set in the world of finance, a story of investment, stewardship, trust and mistrust. Like last week’s, this parable illuminates Jesus’ warning:
“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” – of the final judgment, that is.
To give his followers a clue what it means to live “awake” (not, perhaps, the same as “woke”…), he tells a story about three servants to whom someone entrusted his wealth: “For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his servants and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.”
A simple enough story on the surface; if you read to the end (spoiler alert!), you know that the two who invested their funds were rewarded, while the one who protected his master’s investment was roundly condemned. We'll focus on them another day. Today let’s consider how the language of investment can draw us into the Life of God.
"Investment" is a word I use a lot in stewardship season, inviting congregants to make financial pledges on which the church will base its budget. Our giving is an investment in what God is up to at our churches. Beyond "seeking support," or "meeting needs," investment is active, participatory; when we invest in something, we look for returns, maybe even work to improve the returns.
The life of faith might be seen as an exercise in wealth management. Our God, who made it all and owns it all, has invested tremendous wealth in us. God has given us life, gifts, relationships, work, ministries, joy, love – not to keep and hoard but to tend and nurture for growth. God wants to see great returns on the investment God makes with us – our children growing healthy and independent, our marriages becoming more than the sum of two partners, our work lives fruitful in ways that expand possibilities for others, our ministries fostering faith, and all of us working for peace and equity. All of this “good fruit,” to use Jesus’ phrase, comes from our returning the trust God has invested in us by our investing in one another, in this world, and in the mission of God to reclaim, restore and renew all things to wholeness in Christ.
- What are some assets you feel you have been given? Make a comprehensive list – and don’t forget to include the intangibles, spiritual and emotional and relational gifts, along with the quantifiable ones.
- In what ways have you invested these assets so they grow? Are you clinging to any, afraid to risk losing them?
This is good prayer fodder. Let’s spend time today chatting with God about our answers to these questions, asking God for some “stock tips,” places God particularly wants us to invest ourselves and our gifts. Jesus invites us to step out in faith, investing our energy and resources, not sure of the return. The faithfulness God seeks is in the act of investing, not in the dividends.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
11-6-26 - Dancing With Fire
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Don’t play with fire,” we learn early in life from parents, camp counselors, Smoky the Bear. Fire, so cozy and warm in a fireplace, so romantic or spiritual on the ends of candles, can be so destructive if uncontained.
In our faith lives, however, we are invited not only to play, but to dance with fire, the fire of God. Perhaps I’m overly taken with this notion that the bridesmaids in Jesus’ story needed their lamps to dance in procession, escorting the bridegroom to his waiting bride. I love the image of flames weaving through darkened streets, building up anticipation of the joyful union to come. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how we can live out our identity as Christ followers, bearing his light into the world.
Do you wake up every morning and think, “I am a bearer of light?” The shortening days around us in the northern hemisphere can be a good reminder. And if we commit ourselves to being light-bearers, we’ll need to keep our oil reservoirs full, just like the bridesmaids in our story.
In the early church, oil was a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Many baptismal rites relied heavily on oil for anointing as a sign of the imparting of the Spirit. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, reminds them that they were “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” as a pledge of their spiritual inheritance, already available to them. We receive the same sign at our baptisms, a cross marked in oil on our foreheads.
It is the Holy Spirit who inspires us to ministries, large and small. It is the Spirit who equips us with the gifts we need to live out those ministries. It is the Spirit who empowers us, working through us so that we can do so much more than we can ask or imagine. It is the Spirit who brings us peace and union with Christ.
How do we keep our reservoirs filed with the Spirit? Pray. The prayer, “Holy Spirit, fill me…” is one God answers. In our human limitation, we often need to be refilled, for we are leaky vessels. And the oil we need comes free; it cannot be bought, as the foolish bridesmaids attempted to do. That prayer reminds us that any light-bearing we might accomplish for people walking in darkness will be by the Spirit’s power in us, not ours alone. We can’t lose with the prayer to be filled with the Spirit.
Have you noticed any dark streets or darkened hearts that could use some light? Do you feel you have some to share, or is your flame a bit dim? We’ve learned this week about keeping our lamps trimmed through spiritual practices that open us to God’s abundant life. Add to those a regular prayer of “Holy Spirit, fill me,” and we are always ready when the cry comes to greet the Bridegroom.
The world needs not only the light we bring – it also needs our joy. So we dance with our lights, as the bridesmaids danced the Bridegroom to his wedding feast and beloved bride. The bride is the church – a community of individuals in varying stages of coming to know Christ. Every time we dance the presence of Christ through the dark to a person waiting to receive him, we draw nearer to him ourselves.
Why play with fire, I ask you, if you can dance with it? That is our sacred duty, our inheritance, and our glorious future.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
“Don’t play with fire,” we learn early in life from parents, camp counselors, Smoky the Bear. Fire, so cozy and warm in a fireplace, so romantic or spiritual on the ends of candles, can be so destructive if uncontained.
In our faith lives, however, we are invited not only to play, but to dance with fire, the fire of God. Perhaps I’m overly taken with this notion that the bridesmaids in Jesus’ story needed their lamps to dance in procession, escorting the bridegroom to his waiting bride. I love the image of flames weaving through darkened streets, building up anticipation of the joyful union to come. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how we can live out our identity as Christ followers, bearing his light into the world.
Do you wake up every morning and think, “I am a bearer of light?” The shortening days around us in the northern hemisphere can be a good reminder. And if we commit ourselves to being light-bearers, we’ll need to keep our oil reservoirs full, just like the bridesmaids in our story.
In the early church, oil was a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Many baptismal rites relied heavily on oil for anointing as a sign of the imparting of the Spirit. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, reminds them that they were “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” as a pledge of their spiritual inheritance, already available to them. We receive the same sign at our baptisms, a cross marked in oil on our foreheads.
It is the Holy Spirit who inspires us to ministries, large and small. It is the Spirit who equips us with the gifts we need to live out those ministries. It is the Spirit who empowers us, working through us so that we can do so much more than we can ask or imagine. It is the Spirit who brings us peace and union with Christ.
How do we keep our reservoirs filed with the Spirit? Pray. The prayer, “Holy Spirit, fill me…” is one God answers. In our human limitation, we often need to be refilled, for we are leaky vessels. And the oil we need comes free; it cannot be bought, as the foolish bridesmaids attempted to do. That prayer reminds us that any light-bearing we might accomplish for people walking in darkness will be by the Spirit’s power in us, not ours alone. We can’t lose with the prayer to be filled with the Spirit.
Have you noticed any dark streets or darkened hearts that could use some light? Do you feel you have some to share, or is your flame a bit dim? We’ve learned this week about keeping our lamps trimmed through spiritual practices that open us to God’s abundant life. Add to those a regular prayer of “Holy Spirit, fill me,” and we are always ready when the cry comes to greet the Bridegroom.
The world needs not only the light we bring – it also needs our joy. So we dance with our lights, as the bridesmaids danced the Bridegroom to his wedding feast and beloved bride. The bride is the church – a community of individuals in varying stages of coming to know Christ. Every time we dance the presence of Christ through the dark to a person waiting to receive him, we draw nearer to him ourselves.
Why play with fire, I ask you, if you can dance with it? That is our sacred duty, our inheritance, and our glorious future.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
11-5-26 - Jesus, the Bouncer?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I like happy endings. Yet a happy ending for one is often not for another. Victory in a game, or a war - or an election – means defeat for someone else. Not all happy endings have a sad flipside, but many do. So I’m not crazy about the way Jesus’ story of the bridesmaids ends. When the foolish bridesmaids discover their lamps are going out due to insufficient oil, they ask the ones who thought to bring extra to share, and are told: “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replied, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”
I envision a crowd outside a popular nightspot, with a bouncer letting in the “cool ones” and keeping out those who are not on the list. But these bridesmaids thought they were connected. “Check it again,” they cry, “I’m sure we’re on there. We’re bridesmaids! We show up at church. We just had to run and get more oil.” But the reply is cold as ice: “I do not know you.”
Is this how Jesus will respond to us if we’re unprepared or late? His “punchline” to the story is: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Is there no room for complacency? No missing the boat? And what about those who never knew about the club in the first place?
We encounter this harsh teaching at the end of a few parables. It seems counter to the message of acceptance and grace Jesus so often extended to people. He seemed most harsh with those who should know better – the religious leaders and his own disciples. These “foolish” bridesmaids represent people who’ve already made a commitment to the realm of God. There’s no excuse for them not being ready to fulfill their mission. Is there?
How do you feel as a disciple of Jesus Christ? Prepared? Equipped? Your lamp lit and oil reservoir full?
I like happy endings. Yet a happy ending for one is often not for another. Victory in a game, or a war - or an election – means defeat for someone else. Not all happy endings have a sad flipside, but many do. So I’m not crazy about the way Jesus’ story of the bridesmaids ends. When the foolish bridesmaids discover their lamps are going out due to insufficient oil, they ask the ones who thought to bring extra to share, and are told: “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replied, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”
I envision a crowd outside a popular nightspot, with a bouncer letting in the “cool ones” and keeping out those who are not on the list. But these bridesmaids thought they were connected. “Check it again,” they cry, “I’m sure we’re on there. We’re bridesmaids! We show up at church. We just had to run and get more oil.” But the reply is cold as ice: “I do not know you.”
Is this how Jesus will respond to us if we’re unprepared or late? His “punchline” to the story is: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Is there no room for complacency? No missing the boat? And what about those who never knew about the club in the first place?
We encounter this harsh teaching at the end of a few parables. It seems counter to the message of acceptance and grace Jesus so often extended to people. He seemed most harsh with those who should know better – the religious leaders and his own disciples. These “foolish” bridesmaids represent people who’ve already made a commitment to the realm of God. There’s no excuse for them not being ready to fulfill their mission. Is there?
How do you feel as a disciple of Jesus Christ? Prepared? Equipped? Your lamp lit and oil reservoir full?
If not, what do you feel you are lacking? Can you come into conversation with Jesus about that today? Ask him where the resources are, and as you wait for response, think about your circumstances and the people around you. What else do you need, and who else do you need, to more fully engage in God’s mission of reclaiming, restoring, renewing?
And if you feel the foolish bridesmaids got a raw deal, and fear you’d be in the same boat, that is definitely something to talk over with Jesus in prayer. Relationships require honest communication.
At the end of The Story, I hope and pray that door stays open to all who come, at whatever hour, as Jesus’ story about the workers in the vineyard suggests. In the meantime, we are invited to trust in God’s mercy and live into the mission which Jesus has entrusted to us – always ready to carry the light.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
And if you feel the foolish bridesmaids got a raw deal, and fear you’d be in the same boat, that is definitely something to talk over with Jesus in prayer. Relationships require honest communication.
At the end of The Story, I hope and pray that door stays open to all who come, at whatever hour, as Jesus’ story about the workers in the vineyard suggests. In the meantime, we are invited to trust in God’s mercy and live into the mission which Jesus has entrusted to us – always ready to carry the light.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
11-4-26 - Oil Crisis
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
At first glance Jesus’ parables often seem upside down. In this one we see half the bridesmaids rewarded for refusing to share, and others punished severely for merely failing to prepare. Hmmm. The nap they all took while waiting for the bridegroom to show up does not seem to have been a problem, and each had taken care to prepare her own lamp. The issue was that half of them had not thought ahead: “But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’”
Had the lamps had been lit earlier, when they thought the bridegroom would come any minute? Were they burning during nap time? Whatever the reason, the five foolish bridesmaids had not foreseen the need for extra oil. They’d brought just enough, which turned out to be not enough at all. And the wise (or “fuelish?”) were not about to share.
Wait a minute – isn’t Jesus in favor of sharing? Loving your neighbor as yourself? Doing unto others? What’s up with the selfish bridesmaids, and why does he deem them “wise?” Let’s think about it. If they'd shared the extra oil they’d brought no one would have enough. All the lamps would go out, and the bridegroom would arrive to darkness. No procession, no dancing, no lights. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to find his bride. This falls into the category of the airplane instructions to put on your own oxygen mask before helping children and other passengers.
If Jesus’ story is a metaphor about God’s Bridegroom coming into the hearts of humankind to draw us into union with God, then an absence of light is a grave problem. The wise bridesmaids have their eye on the big picture, the overall mission, where the foolish ones can’t see past their personal success or failure. The disciples God seeks, Jesus suggests, are those who are conscious, aware, prepared, and focused enough on shining God's light in this world to not allow distractions to pull them off-mission.
In our day we know a thing or two about distractions – pervasive media, data, noise, busyness (anyone spend yesterday locked onto a newsfeed with election updates?) And in our post-Christendom culture, there are fewer external supports to living our lives focused on Christ – and a lot more competition. Sports on Sundays isn’t the half of it. I know people who hold back from a deeper spiritual commitment because their spouse or partner is not interested. I know many people who let their workload dictate their priorities. Too often I’m one of them.
It is not selfish to preserve time to be quiet with God, to foster your relationship with Christ. When we’re in love, we don’t question the amount of time we spend with our beloved. Jesus invites us into a relationship of love in which he becomes our first priority. If what we’re promised is true, he is our one eternal relationship – getting to know him and letting him get close to us is the greatest gift we can give to the people in our lives, no matter their short-term needs.
When we are refreshed, we are much more effective as representatives of God in the world. We are more finely tuned to discerning need around us, and to the movement of the Spirit in us. We are quicker to recognize our own faults and invite Jesus to set us free. We become wedding attendants who can dance Jesus into the hearts of those who might be ready to fall in love with him. He’ll do the rest.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
At first glance Jesus’ parables often seem upside down. In this one we see half the bridesmaids rewarded for refusing to share, and others punished severely for merely failing to prepare. Hmmm. The nap they all took while waiting for the bridegroom to show up does not seem to have been a problem, and each had taken care to prepare her own lamp. The issue was that half of them had not thought ahead: “But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’”
Had the lamps had been lit earlier, when they thought the bridegroom would come any minute? Were they burning during nap time? Whatever the reason, the five foolish bridesmaids had not foreseen the need for extra oil. They’d brought just enough, which turned out to be not enough at all. And the wise (or “fuelish?”) were not about to share.
Wait a minute – isn’t Jesus in favor of sharing? Loving your neighbor as yourself? Doing unto others? What’s up with the selfish bridesmaids, and why does he deem them “wise?” Let’s think about it. If they'd shared the extra oil they’d brought no one would have enough. All the lamps would go out, and the bridegroom would arrive to darkness. No procession, no dancing, no lights. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to find his bride. This falls into the category of the airplane instructions to put on your own oxygen mask before helping children and other passengers.
If Jesus’ story is a metaphor about God’s Bridegroom coming into the hearts of humankind to draw us into union with God, then an absence of light is a grave problem. The wise bridesmaids have their eye on the big picture, the overall mission, where the foolish ones can’t see past their personal success or failure. The disciples God seeks, Jesus suggests, are those who are conscious, aware, prepared, and focused enough on shining God's light in this world to not allow distractions to pull them off-mission.
In our day we know a thing or two about distractions – pervasive media, data, noise, busyness (anyone spend yesterday locked onto a newsfeed with election updates?) And in our post-Christendom culture, there are fewer external supports to living our lives focused on Christ – and a lot more competition. Sports on Sundays isn’t the half of it. I know people who hold back from a deeper spiritual commitment because their spouse or partner is not interested. I know many people who let their workload dictate their priorities. Too often I’m one of them.
It is not selfish to preserve time to be quiet with God, to foster your relationship with Christ. When we’re in love, we don’t question the amount of time we spend with our beloved. Jesus invites us into a relationship of love in which he becomes our first priority. If what we’re promised is true, he is our one eternal relationship – getting to know him and letting him get close to us is the greatest gift we can give to the people in our lives, no matter their short-term needs.
When we are refreshed, we are much more effective as representatives of God in the world. We are more finely tuned to discerning need around us, and to the movement of the Spirit in us. We are quicker to recognize our own faults and invite Jesus to set us free. We become wedding attendants who can dance Jesus into the hearts of those who might be ready to fall in love with him. He’ll do the rest.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
11-3-26 - Trimming Our Lamps
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Turns out there is an art to making a flame, at least when it comes to lamps. According to Wikipedia, “A poorly trimmed wick creates a flame which is dim and smoky. A properly trimmed wick should come to a rounded point, or should be wedge shaped.” The bridesmaids in our story took care of that: “...at midnight there was a shout: ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all the bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps.”
Yesterday I shared that the “lamps” in Jesus’ parable may have been more like oil-soaked rag torches. Perhaps so, but he does speak of trimming wicks, which suggests a more sophisticated level of lamp technology. He seems to say, “It’s not enough to have access to fire, and fuel to burn – if we want our light to be strong and unwavering, we need to keep our wicks well trimmed.”
How does that translate for us as Christ-followers engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness? Our primary means of keeping our lamps ready to burn clear and bright are spiritual practices. These include well-known disciplines as well as rituals and patterns we develop for ourselves. The “big ones” are:
Turns out there is an art to making a flame, at least when it comes to lamps. According to Wikipedia, “A poorly trimmed wick creates a flame which is dim and smoky. A properly trimmed wick should come to a rounded point, or should be wedge shaped.” The bridesmaids in our story took care of that: “...at midnight there was a shout: ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all the bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps.”
Yesterday I shared that the “lamps” in Jesus’ parable may have been more like oil-soaked rag torches. Perhaps so, but he does speak of trimming wicks, which suggests a more sophisticated level of lamp technology. He seems to say, “It’s not enough to have access to fire, and fuel to burn – if we want our light to be strong and unwavering, we need to keep our wicks well trimmed.”
How does that translate for us as Christ-followers engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness? Our primary means of keeping our lamps ready to burn clear and bright are spiritual practices. These include well-known disciplines as well as rituals and patterns we develop for ourselves. The “big ones” are:
- regular presence in worship with the Body of Christ;
- regularly reading and chewing on Scripture;
- regular times of prayer and contemplation in which we seek to hear God speaking to and through us;
- regular acts of giving and mercy.
Beyond these are disciplines such as fasting, confession, retreats, and pilgrimage that help us draw nearer to God.
Some of our personal rituals and routines can also be spiritual practices for us. These might include hospitality, listening, walking, drawing, music – anything that can be woven into the rhythm of your day or week that calls you to your truest self and opens your spirit to the life of God.
The key word here is “regular,” the root of which gives us our word “rule.” Like monastics, we are invited to take on a rule of life, a planned and articulated series of spiritual practices we find faith-strengthening and life-giving. Just as we exercise our bodies regularly, these practices make us more grounded, healthy, responsive, nimble and strong.
Do you have a “rule of life?” I developed one that included some time each day interacting with nature, regular walks and writing nature poetry as well as daily prayer, bible study and journaling, and monthly hospitality. (I hasten to note my compliance with my own rule of life wavers a bit.) What spiritual practices do you currently engage in, formally or informally? Make a list. Are there some you’ve been wanting to take on and haven’t gotten to? You could offer that desire or intention to God in prayer and then make a plan to incorporate it into your life. Be specific about the when and where, and who might support you in that practice.
If you don’t have a spiritual director or formalized “spiritual friendship” with anyone, I highly recommend a personal trainer or exercise buddy for your spiritual life. Jesus invites us to partner in ministry, and the accountability and other perspective is invaluable. (Email me if you want help with this.) For today, let the Tedeschi Trucks Band version of the song Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning call you to prayer. (Gospel choir version here.)
All the wick-trimming in the world, though, won’t let the light shine if we don’t have enough oil. The spiritual life is always a combination of our discipline and the Holy Spirit’s serendipitous presence. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what it means to have enough oil to shine for all the world to see.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Some of our personal rituals and routines can also be spiritual practices for us. These might include hospitality, listening, walking, drawing, music – anything that can be woven into the rhythm of your day or week that calls you to your truest self and opens your spirit to the life of God.
The key word here is “regular,” the root of which gives us our word “rule.” Like monastics, we are invited to take on a rule of life, a planned and articulated series of spiritual practices we find faith-strengthening and life-giving. Just as we exercise our bodies regularly, these practices make us more grounded, healthy, responsive, nimble and strong.
Do you have a “rule of life?” I developed one that included some time each day interacting with nature, regular walks and writing nature poetry as well as daily prayer, bible study and journaling, and monthly hospitality. (I hasten to note my compliance with my own rule of life wavers a bit.) What spiritual practices do you currently engage in, formally or informally? Make a list. Are there some you’ve been wanting to take on and haven’t gotten to? You could offer that desire or intention to God in prayer and then make a plan to incorporate it into your life. Be specific about the when and where, and who might support you in that practice.
If you don’t have a spiritual director or formalized “spiritual friendship” with anyone, I highly recommend a personal trainer or exercise buddy for your spiritual life. Jesus invites us to partner in ministry, and the accountability and other perspective is invaluable. (Email me if you want help with this.) For today, let the Tedeschi Trucks Band version of the song Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning call you to prayer. (Gospel choir version here.)
All the wick-trimming in the world, though, won’t let the light shine if we don’t have enough oil. The spiritual life is always a combination of our discipline and the Holy Spirit’s serendipitous presence. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what it means to have enough oil to shine for all the world to see.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
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