Poor priorities emerge as a central thread running through this examination of whether professing believers have unwittingly adopted a practical version of "Once Saved, Always Saved," even while officially rejecting that doctrine. The pattern begins in Haggai, where the returned remnant of Judah exemplifies misplaced priorities directly: they focused on paneling their own houses while God's temple lay in ruins. God's response—withholding dew, cursing their labor, blowing away their gains—demonstrates that misaligned priorities carry real consequences, yet the people were so consumed with personal interests that they failed to connect their hardships to their neglect of God's house until Haggai explicitly pointed it out. This illustrates a broader danger: when focus rests on self rather than God, His warnings can be missed entirely. This same dynamic appears in the letter to Ephesus, where the church retained proper form and rudimentary spiritual activities—prayer, study—yet had abandoned its first and most important love. Christ's activity, the "oil" that fuels genuine spiritual life, was absent because He was no longer truly prioritized, having been displaced by the world, an offense, a pet doctrine, or some other competing concern. The result is spiritual vitality drying up, even while outward religious practice continues, producing a false sense of security. Zechariah 7 sharpens this concern by exposing that even good spiritual works—fasting, prayer, Sabbath-keeping, kindness to others—can be performed with self rather than God as the true focus. God's piercing question, "Did you really fast for Me—for Me?" reveals that priorities can be subtly misdirected even within seemingly devoted religious practice, making self-examination essential rather than optional. The Laodicean condition represents the fullest expression of poor priorities: a people who judge themselves wealthy and in need of nothing, while Christ judges them wretched, poor, and blind. Their choices—not their words—reveal what truly matters to them, just as a neighbor's devotion to washing his car reveals his priorities. Whether the "riches" are physical or spiritual (understanding, church affiliation, position, tenure), anything that provides security apart from an active, ongoing pursuit of God Himself can blunt recognition of genuine need and produce fatal complacency. Finally, the parable of the ten virgins ties poor priorities to eternal consequence. The foolish virgins, understood as neglecting to cultivate abundance and richness in their relationship with the Bridegroom, prioritize other concerns and are left unprepared when the critical moment arrives. Their failure was not sudden but cumulative—a lifetime of misplaced priorities that left them strangers to Christ despite calling Him Lord. Salvation is thus described as "ours to lose," entirely winnable given every advantage in Christ, yet forfeitable precisely through neglecting proper priorities, skipping the "practice" of daily relationship with God, and allowing lesser things to distract from what matters most.