It’s true sometimes. I’ve blogged lately about fire, how we
Christians, we followers of Christ, we brave few, are called to at times to
follow our Savior right through it. In the fire, ugly things get burned clean
off us. The loving masculine hand of Christ guides us into these brave places
where life and death walk naked and can be seen for what they are. Here,
survival is victory.
The first time Jesus Christ leads a man through the furnace
of His severe and fearsome love, it feels like the end of all things. The
universe tilts, the earth wobbles on its axis. But like Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego, when we’re plunged into the flames we find it a kind of sanctuary, a
baptism that cleanses us from those things that overshadow us: the past and its
power to condemn, addictions, habits, ruts of behavior. We find in the fire,
for the first time, that there is peace. The blaze of our Savior’s gaze—His undivided
attention, so unbearable for those who have not yet bent the knee—is ultimate catharsis.
It is the homecoming for which we all hunger, whether we know it or not.
We soon find in the fire that there is nothing to fear
there. When we emerge on the other side, burnished clean and glowing, we find ourselves
stronger, lighter, bolder. Less apt to waver. Not led about by whim and fancy.
We know our purpose, we know who we are, we have beheld the magnificence of the
only wise God, and we are forever changed. Fear slides off us now. What once
might have bowed our backs, crippled our knees, and melted our hearts is now as
nothing. Our perspective has changed; we know now what matters because we have
looked death in the face and seen there is nothing there to fear.
And we sing a new song. One that cannot begin to express the
measure of pain we have felt. It is pain that matters a great deal, because we
bear the marks of Christ on our hearts now; we are bound to Him in fellowship,
in brotherhood, in understanding—because we have walked the same paths, have we
not? Our new song is one of love, but even this song won’t do enough to prove
our love for Him. We firewalkers will not stop short of pouring out our lives
for the One we have beheld in the quiet place of the crucible. We are not the
same as we were before.
We will never be the same. The embrace of God is an
irrevocable thing. For those who know, for those who have heard His call, there
is nothing else that will ever satisfy. Nothing. For us, when we say I can do all things through Christ who strengthens
me, we know it’s true because we have lived
it. Not because of us. But because of the One who reveals Himself in the
fire, who strips everything away but Himself, His everything-presence, the One
who has overshadowed All, the One who showed us that survival is victory. What
remains is pure.
The most real and profound prose I've read in a looooong time. And only those who have been "charred" by his burning love can appreciate what you've written. Blessing and honor to you, mighty man of God
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, bro.
DeleteI have found that after having a cleansing, spiritual experience like a fire comes the hammer and anvil. But let me explain that before someone misunderstands.
ReplyDeleteThere seems to be a reciprocal force to spiritual change. When I resolve through prayer and repentance to become a better man. I get a spiritual fire. This is followed by what seems to be an increase in temptation, and an increased resistance by worldly influences. These are the hammer and anvil.
Passing through this leads to the cool and peace of the black smith's water bucket as I am successfully shaped into the tool Christ wants me to be.
I only mention this because sometimes after feeling the fire, we think that this should be enough. That fire alone can make us. But the black smith and the Lord both know that you can't shape tools using just heat alone. Do not let yourself feel abandoned when the hammer comes. The Lord knows how best to shape us.
And that is where ultimate and true joy come from.