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I was on my knees this weekend looking deep into the hearth of my fireplace. The day was so cold and we hadn’t turned on our central heat lately. The husband was off running an errand. I had built many a fire over the years but for some reason this one seemed off a touch. This one had been burning fine but eventually the flames had died out to just an ember. It didn’t seem to have enough fresh air flowing through the flue.
I thought it would be easy enough to relight the thing. Put some kindling next to the embers and it should catch from the heat but nothing happened. Matter of fact the kindling merely changed color from its pristine raw look to plain charred, no flame of glory.
Thinking I could fix this I brought in some paper fragments and twisted them up so they’d hold a flame for longer than a second. Putting these next to the embers and kindling I waited but instead of igniting into flame they only lay there smoldering; releasing some unpleasant dark smoke. Even when I tried to blow on it myself this merely produced more of the nasty smokiness. Eventually I left it alone to die out completely.
I wonder tonight about the fire of God’s love in all of us. Without His breath of life and Spirit upon us we can only blow on each other weakly, creating a smoldering mess. Without Him we are just going through the motions and no matter how we work ourselves up in a frenzy we will fizzle out into a cold and faithless religion.