“We are born to burn.”
~Bill Johnson, Hosting the Presence
There is one house that is built to burn. It is the
lighthouse. It’s whole design is for that one function: to burn with intensity,
fierceness, and purpose.
It’s commonplace to look at a lighthouse and think: yes, a
fire burns inside it. But what a fire! It’s a fire that burns day and night, in
the blistering heat of summer as well as the deadly blizzards of winter. This
fire blazes so high and so fierce that small pieces of kindling from the forest
just won’t cut it. No, this fire requires massive logs, severed by the sharpest
axe and carried by the strongest lumberjack up grueling flights of stairs to
the highest level of the lighthouse.
A lighthouse is also a glass house: a house that everyone
else can see through. It’s windows around that fire are transparent and clear.
They have to be because the light is meant to pierce storms and ink-black
darkness. This light is so strong and fierce that going near it could mean
death, but to those at sea, it is life-preserving and even life-saving. It’s a
light that illuminates the way.
A lighthouse without a fire blazing is an ornament of the
past. A lighthouse with pulsating flames serves with relentless determination
its greatest purpose. The lighthouse keeper lives within this house, may even
have a family in its abode. But if the fire goes out, the lighthouse keeper no
longer operates in his true identity and calling.
Jesus called us to be consumed with Him. He is the fire that
burns within us. His presence is warm and comforting, but He desires us to
remember that He is meant to be more than a fire that flickers in an interior
hearth. He designed our lives to be demonstrations of His love and fierce
desire. He gives us His Holy Spirit to live within us as the Master LightKeeper, to empower us in our identity and teach us the skills necessary for the trade. Even our successes—those great oaks that are monuments of our most
diligent efforts in God’s field—must submit to the Holy Spirit's greatest purpose: keeping
the fire of abandonment ablaze in our hearts.
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