Fire

So our heating is out - awaiting some valve or other so we are not spewing gas fumes into our house. This morning was chilly and I decided a fire was in order - out in the rain to get wood from the enormous woodpile. As the internet was also out I coaxed my little fire into a rage and pondered that metaphor of fire which we use for the Holy Spirit.

The fire took some coaxing - despite a carefully place tarp the wood had got some damp into it - not wet - just enough moisture to make it resistant to heat. As it caught I watched the fire's fury - it was frightening to think of the damage a fire can do untamed.

I wondered why we use this metaphor for God - after all do we want God to be this big and this destructive? I watched a little longer and could not decide on the big picture - but a smaller one, damp wood being resistant to fire - that made sense today.

I found myself smiling at my own wet resistance to the Spirit - at the sheer heat which is required both to dry and ignite wood at the same time - God is that big, I decided, God can dry out my soggy soul. As for destruction, I already know God is not neat and tidy but I have to think about that one, absorb the metaphor, find its edges. For now I am sitting in the glow of my fire, feeling, perhaps, a little too warm - but grateful for the energy which is put into drying me out.