How hot can the fire get?
How long can I burn before I disappear altogether? That’s the goal, isn’t it? all of Him and none of me, right? There’s no end to the wood, hay and stubble that is me. The more I dig and search, the more me there is in here. That’s how it seems, anyway. During these searching, burning seasons, there’s nowhere to run but to Abba. Like a willful, angry child, I refuse His shelter and shake my fists in His loving face. I stomp my foot and slam the door because He has no other reason to give me than, ‘because I said so’. That’s not enough. I need more than that, but that’s all there is. My heart is breaking and I’m confused and lonely, but He never leaves my side. For so long, I’ve needed so little. Why am I so needy now?
So many of us ‘good children’ have been marching along like upright little soldiers for the Cause. I don’t know about the rest of you, but my Mary Janes are wearing out. I’m tired and frustrated and I want so much to understand what’s going on around here. I can’t be the only one. We have so much but, somehow, we’ve become a bunch of dead ends. We’re all dressed up with nowhere to go.
Every one of us has so much to offer, so much beauty inside of us, so much potential, but we don’t believe God when He says it’s there. It’s buried so deep under the wood pile that the thought of digging it out is overwhelming. It’s easier to get mad at Him about it or, worse, deny that it even exists. He keeps telling me that there’s something special in here, but I’m starting to lose hope. I’ve been looking and looking and I keep coming up with more hurt, pain and disappointment. Is it wrong to feel this way? No.
Genesis 32:22-28 tells the story of Jacob physically wrestling with God. This is a very bizarre story. It says that Jacob wrestled with a man all night, after which, Jacob’s name was changed to Israel “….because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.” Come on, God could have creamed him with a word, a thought. So why didn’t He? Maybe He knew that Jacob would never accept anything that he didn’t have to fight for. That’s how some of us are. Everything’s a fight. Everything’s a struggle. In the end, we’re the overcomers because we always come out swinging. I think God loves that about us. He should because He made us this way. If we’ll stay in the kiln long enough for our colors to set, we’ll be the sturdiest, prettiest vessels on His table.
But in the meantime, it’s so hot.