Playing With Fire

Over the nine years that I've worked at my current job, occasionally I've needed to help out with tasks other than copy editing. Some of them I didn't enjoy at all, others I learned to develop a certain level of appreciation for, and a few I completely loved doing ... like building a fire in the wood-burning fireplace on cold wintry days. I'm good at building fires, too, which may be why I've been dubbed "Master Firebuilder" by some folks in my office. There's an art to creating a raging fire ... laying the wood the correct way, using enough kindling, placing the newspaper in the most strategic areas ... everything has to be just right in order for the wood to ignite and create a roaring blaze.

This morning, I was freezing when I walked into my office from the parking lot, so after dropping off my things at my desk I immediately headed downstairs to build a fire. And after building the fire, I sat on the hearth in front of it trying to get warm. That's another side effect of my diabetes ... I've lost so much weight that I'm cold to the bone when the temps drop outside, and I have a really hard time getting warm. It wasn't long until the fire was blazing, and as I used the fireplace utensils to stoke it up even more and throw on a couple more logs, one of the owners of my company walked up and said, "You certainly love playing with that fire, don't you?" I smiled and replied, "You bet I do!" And every hour or so throughout the day, I would head back downstairs and add more wood to the fire.

I've been thinking all day about the owner's words this morning ... about how much I love playing with the fire at the office. And, of course, in pondering the literal fireplace, I started thinking about how many times in life I've had the following words spoken to me ... "You're playing with fire, Terrie," concerning certain situations I've gotten involved in or people I've associated with throughout the course of my life. Sometimes, the warning was given in love and was appropriate and needed to keep me from getting burned by the flames of sin. But at other times, the warning was spoken with a critical spirit and from a place of judgment and only served to wound me or produce an unwarranted sense of guilt or despair.

As I drove home this evening, I couldn't help but think that for all the times I've played with the fire at work, not once have I ever gotten burned. I haven't gotten burned because I don't ever stick my hand in the fire ... I don't ever sit too close to the fire ... I don't ever get near the fire without the protection of the heavy woven curtain securely in place. And yet in life, there are times when I jump right into the fire ... forget sticking my hand in or sitting too close or having a strong covering in front of the fire ... I jump right into the middle of the flames. Just like the roaring fire in the fireplace at my office beckons me on a cold day, there are times when the fires of sin and disobedience try their best to draw me in. It's an interesting beast ... temptation ... I can rationalize and justify and make excuses all day long when I get too close to that fire, but when it's all said and done, if I give in and get into the fire, I still get burned. 

"No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it." 1 Corinthians 10:13