God’s presence is what sustains us, but staying close to Him isn’t automatic. It’s something we choose daily, something we cultivate over time. The strength to keep going, the clarity to see what’s ahead, and the light to walk through whatever comes our way all come from being filled with what only He can give.
Imagine standing in an olive grove on a mountain. The view is incredible, the air fresh, the world stretched out before you. It’s the kind of place you’d want to stay forever. But at the base of that mountain, there’s an olive press. Because for the oil to be useful, it has to be extracted. The process is slow, steady, and intentional—because if it happens too fast, the oil loses its purity. No pressing means no oil. And without oil, there’s no light, no nourishment, no healing.
The pressing seasons of life aren’t easy. They test what’s inside of us, revealing both the good and the things that need to go. It’s tempting to avoid them, to hold on to comfort, to delay the hard things. Resistance doesn’t always look like outright refusal. Sometimes, it looks like distraction, busyness, or simply wanting to feel good in the moment. But avoiding the process doesn’t stop it from being necessary. The pressing seasons—the ones that test us, stretch us, and refine us—are where the oil is produced. The oil that sustains us comes through surrender, not avoidance.
Jesus told a parable about ten bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom. They all expected to be part of the wedding, but only five of them were prepared with enough oil for their lamps. The others assumed what they had was enough, but when the moment came, they found themselves unprepared. The door was shut, and no amount of scrambling could change that. This parable isn’t about those who don’t know Jesus. It’s a direct warning to those who do. The ones who call Him Lord but don’t actually stay close enough to be ready when He moves. And the truth is, no one else can fill your lamp for you. The oil comes from time in God’s presence, from learning His voice, from allowing Him to shape and refine what’s inside of you. It’s easy to run on yesterday’s oil, to think that what was poured out in the past will carry into the future. But oil runs out if it’s not replenished. Lamps burn dim when they’re neglected.
So ask yourself—are you tending the oil of His presence in your life? Or are you running on fumes, hoping what you had yesterday will be enough for tomorrow?
We don’t get to control what happens in the world. Distractions are endless. It’s easy to get caught up in what’s happening around us and forget that what matters most is being ready. Jesus never told us to predict the timing—He told us to prepare our hearts.
The pressing seasons we face aren’t meant to break us. They’re meant to wake us up. They’re meant to prepare us, to show us where we truly stand, to refine what’s inside of us. They’re meant to produce something in you. Something that will last. Something that will sustain. The question is, will you allow it? Will you let Him do the work only He can do?
Jesus isn’t calling us to fear—He’s calling us to love. The bridegroom is coming. Will you have oil in your lamp?