Consuming Fire

I was a blaze of fire,

A pile of gas-covered kindling,

And the match was dropped.

And I burned so uncontrollably hot that the flames licked at the walls,

And so we threw water on the fire and squelched it,

And I stepped back, dripping and wondering what

On earth

I had done wrong.

I want to be on fire. I want to be passionate and zealous.

I want to look in the distance and always see the hope dancing on ahead—

But we were scared.

I was scared. Because fires can be warm and good,

But they can destroy and consume,

And I was burning fast like a wildfire, hungry for change.

Oh God, oh God, oh God,

I want to be more than a fire that burns for a while,

Then goes out and leaves only smoke behind.

I don’t want to burn,

And yet I do, I do.

For the fire that rages through my soul and courses through my veins

Destroys the dead trees that bear no fruit.

It opens up the barren womb of the pinecones so that they may bring forth life again.

It rids me of distractions and curling, suffocating weeds,

But the rocks remain.

And by the power of God, these very rocks will cry out,

Proclaiming that Christ never changes, He stays the same.

I’m willing to burn for that.

Because when the soil is tilled again, it shall be more fertile than before,

And roots will grow deeper and stronger.

These trees will stand firm beneath the storms,

These trees will bear fruit.

So I shall burn,

And I shall burn unapologetically,

For this fire was not of my own making or created by my own breath,

This fire was placed in my heart before I was even born,

Knowing that I would struggle even to take that first breath.

Oh Lord, teach me to burn, but not burn up,

To lead but to surrender,

To hold firm to hope and to stand fast on truth,

Plant a courage within me that is stronger than my selfish will,

And a pure heart to beat in my chest.

For unattended, the fire will destroy all that I hold dear,

But under your mighty hand it will preach your truth.

For you, oh Lord, are a consuming fire.