Into the Fire

Memories . . . past tense, the past, gone.

Young and never thinking otherwise, wanting age.

Strange to always want to be ahead of time until time has run away and left us all behind.

The present—dull or hectic, startling or uneventful, passing before our short-sighted eyes.

Grab the value of the day! There are so few. Fewer than we know.

And if we render them valueless, what will we have when inventory is due?

An empty portion. A weak excuse. A sad expression. A miserable memory.

Blessings come in ways we cannot see. Blinded by our selfishness. Hustled by our drives. Tainted by our lusts.

Cynical in our vision. Limited by our expectations. Failures in our faith. Stuck in mediocrity. Ashamed of our Lord?

Not consciously or verbally or actively or purposely. No. But: evidently.

By our lackluster talk of His greatness. By our hopeless pursuit of His glory and will. By our ho-hum regard for our sinful ways. By our intentional avoidance of growing in His deep-water, life-giving Spirit. We’d rather drown in our seas of self-induced clutter, stifling our search for serious spirituality.

“Too hard!” we shout. Too much. Too weird. Too tough. Too, too . . . sacrificial.

Hear the Call. Listen. Is that my name?!

Not now—I’m busy! Too busy. Again.

Father, I want to want what you want for me. I do not want to waste another minute in ridiculous pursuit of meaningless clutter. Help me to be the one you want me to be, and, Lord, I don’t want you to have to tell me twice. Help me to obey immediately. I know there is no time to waste. I need you to work your will in me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.