The hour is late. The night is deep. The shadows grow longer, and the world turns ever darker. It is the midnight hour, when truth is despised, sin is celebrated, and the hearts of many grow cold. Yet even now, in the thick of this darkness, a cry is rising — faint at first, but clear to the ears of those who still watch and pray. It is the voice of the Spirit echoing across the earth: “Behold, the Bridegroom cometh.”
This is the last cry before the rapture, the final awakening before the return of the Lord Jesus Christ. Heaven is stirring, angels are preparing, and the Spirit is calling the Bride to readiness. It is no longer time for comfort or compromise; it is time to trim the lamps, to fill the vessels, to watch and pray with burning hearts.
The tragedy of our age is not the sin of the world, but the sleep of the Church. Many hold lamps of profession but have lost the oil of presence. They talk of heaven but live for earth. They preach about His coming, but their hearts are bound to this passing world. The Bridegroom delays, and while He tarries, many have drifted into spiritual drowsiness. They have exchanged watchfulness for weariness, passion for programs, holiness for hype.
Yet in the midst of this sleep, God still has a remnant who have not bowed to the world’s idols. They live with eternity burning in their hearts. Their cry is not for another conference, but for a cleansing. They are not seeking comfort, but consecration. They long, not for the applause of men, but for the voice of the Bridegroom.
These are the forerunners of this generation — men and women who carry the spirit of John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness of modern Christianity, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord!” They are not the polished, but the broken; not the famous, but the faithful. They have heard the footsteps of the coming King and cannot stay silent.
The dividing line has already been drawn. The midnight cry does not create the difference between the wise and foolish virgins — it reveals it. Both groups had lamps, both expected the Bridegroom, but only one had oil. The oil is the symbol of intimacy — the inward life of the Spirit that no one can borrow or buy at the last moment. It is not a public anointing but a private devotion. Those who neglect it now will discover, too late, that no one can share it then.
The words of the Puritans still ring true: “He who will not pray now will weep then.” The time for preparation is swiftly closing. The door of grace still stands open, but not for long. Soon the shout will echo from the heavens, the trumpet will sound, and in a moment — in the twinkling of an eye — the Bride will be gone.
How many pews will be empty of the true saints and yet full of those who were content with religion? How many preachers will realize that they proclaimed a gospel they never lived? How many will awaken to find that the oil they once ignored was the only thing that mattered?
This final cry is not meant to frighten but to focus. It is the mercy of God calling His people to readiness before the midnight door shuts. It is the last trumpet of grace before the trumpet of glory. The Spirit is saying once more: “Come out from among them, and be ye separate.” Holiness is not an option — it is the mark of those who will see Him.
The world scoffs, but the Bride knows. She feels it in her spirit — the weight of eternity pressing closer. Her garments are being washed in tears of repentance. Her lamp is being filled with fresh oil from secret prayer. Her eyes are fixed upon the eastern sky.
This is not the time to slumber, beloved. This is the hour to watch, to fast, to pray, to burn. The coming of the Lord is nearer than we have ever believed. The midnight cry has gone forth, and those who hear it must arise.
Let us not be found unready. Let us be among those whose hearts still burn with first love, whose hands are pure, and whose garments are white. The Bridegroom delays only because of mercy — that more souls might awaken before the sound of the trumpet.
And when that trumpet sounds, no flesh will glory, no compromise will stand, and no half-hearted faith will remain. Only the pure in heart shall see God. The cry of heaven will be answered by a cry on earth — the Bride calling, “Even so, come, Lord Jesus!”
The hour is late. The cry has gone out. The Bridegroom comes.
Let the wise arise.
