Growing Younger

We are all invited to the feast.
Each of us is welcome, from the greatest to the least.
We hold the invitation in our hands.
It's written in each crevasse of our own lamps.
I'll promise that I'll be prepared to be there on that day.
Dancing in the glory, as we celebrate.

Humble hearts are waiting for the day,
Faithfully preparing for the chance to light His way.
Guardians of the vessels that will burn,
Watching for the Master to return.
Maker of the gift that only He can fill.
Keeper of the precious oil is waiting still.

And I will kiss the hands that made my lamp.
When He comes again I will honor Him!

The Master planned each of us with His grand design.
The oil is the light I will burn through the night, as I wait for Him to come again.
There will always be enough, if I run to Him to fill it up.
Drop by drop by drop.
'Til I'm kneeling at His feet, and I know Him perfectly,
I'll be worthy of my King, when He comes for me.

-The Ten Virgins, "When He Comes for me"