I woke up this morning, and couldn’t find the fire within me.

It had been smothered again.

I dug through the ashes and discarded dead branches, frantically looking.

I know there is a spark somewhere inside, still burning.

I couldn’t find it.

I looked to heaven, asking for His fire to fall on my life again, to ignite the areas around my life so that I could see the smoke and notice the clues. So I can see where I need to remove the wet branches of our best ideas and where we can lie on the ground, blowing to life that which You have begun.

I called in a friend to help and we took turns, one keeping watch. Dangers lurk nearby. This beginning fire will be snuffed if our backs are turned even momentarily. That is how fear works.

I take off my backpack and my firefighting suit. I was never meant to wear it anyway. But I like to be safe.

It’s cold out here without my extra layers on. I don’t have enough to feel comfortable. But shedding the outer layer has increased my urgency to get this fire burning brighter.

Will you help me?

Our very lives, our joie de vivre, our hope, depend on it.

Can you take a turn blowing on these embers while I do some jumping jacks to get warm? Following His way is not the path of comfort. Our discomfort draws us to Him, to the flame, hoping for some heat from these smoking embers.

When our lives turn to desperation, breakthrough is near.

Why had I ever been satisfied with less?

You?

Do you need to take off your firefighter’s suit, too, the outfit you wear just in case God’s fire will break out of the boundaries we established for this campfire?

Are you, too, afraid of being so close to fire without the necessary tools nearby to snuff out anything beyond the boundaries we establish as safe?

Have you put God in your box?

Do you stand nearby, fully dressed in firefighter’s gear, back to the embers, standing alert to open the fire extinguisher on the embers lest real flames burst forth? It’s dangerous having our backs to the fire.

How is your heart? Do you explain away the unexplainable? Do you say, “I’ll ponder that later,” to the hints of the divine you encounter in another’s life, in your own life?

Are you, too, one of the ones standing watch, back to the fire of what God wants to do through your life? Do your ankles quake, and your whole body shake as you stand, back to the flame, prepared for the inevitable? How are you doing, deep down?

Did our diligence with the fire extinguisher, smothering fires from heaven as they leap outside the bounds of a campfire, leave you exhausted and weary?

Come, friend. Come and sit by this fire. Let’s take off your firefighter’s suit, too.

You don’t need it anymore. Yes, you will be cold and uncomfortable. Let this discomfort push us closer to the embers, to the fires of where His spirit is moving as we seek our and each other’s breakthroughs.

And when you find some warmth, let it spark the kindling in your heart afresh.

Only then does real life begin.

[Jesus] will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He’s going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He’ll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he’ll put out with the trash to be burned.

The Message