As I have continued to contemplate the full implication of being a disciple of Jesus I find myself almost in a state of spiritual paralysis. It is hard to explain, I can't digest enough books and scripture right now to feed my appetite to learn more and draw closer to this fire that is so intriguing - yet so dangerous.
I am mesmerized by its beauty as I watch each flame dance on the wood, flicker and lick the air as it seems to disappear into the night only to see it recoil and come back for another dance.
I am captivated by the variant colors that make up this being. Just when I think I have focus on a given spot and a given color, it moves, it reshapes. It stay constant - but is always changing.
I am drawn to look deeply into the red hot embers that glow so intensely at the foundation, knowing that this is the hottest point and the most fascinating as the wood almost seems to be alive, moving inside itself.
I am fearful of it nature. It is fire. It can burn. It can hurt. So I respect it, I am drawn to get as close as I can but I keep a respectable - or at least bearable - distance from its consuming heat.
I am humbled as I throw my paper plate prayers into it and watch intently as they are consumed into a thin black wafer and sent spiraling upward riding on a wave of heat.
I am comforted by all of things that my fire brings me, the beauty, the color, the heat, the fear, the consumption. It's hard to explain but comfort and fear really work together. It is actually a sweet recipe that creates and addiction that seems to be propelling me to consume more.
It is perplexing how I become more and more gripped by who God is. Maybe this spiritual paralysis is nothing more than my old nature slowly dieing as I am being replaced with my new self….and as a result I feel frozen for moment in this space in time as I watch and learn, allowing God to strip me of all my false gods and false perceptions of who he is, of who his church is, of who I am, of what it means to really be his disciple.
All I know is that the more I feed my appetite to know and draw close to God, the more satisfied and unsatisfied I become with these things. What would happen if I didn't feed the fire and let it burn out? I imagine it would be really easy to get up and walk away, after all who wants to look at burnt wood lying in the dirt?
Am I making any sense? Can anyone relate?
