Touched As If By Fire
Last weekend, my friend Matt and I journeyed to a local park to finish something I'd had a long time coming.
In Josh Harris's second book “Boy Meets Girl”, he tells the story of a young man who, after God told him to put his relationship on hold, buries the tangible parts of his relationship under a tree in his intended's yard. This was a “physical manifestation of a spiritual reality” as Jay says, a reminder that the relationship was gone.
After the end of my first dating relationship, I gathered all the tangible memories I could find and put them in a box. Not knowing exactly what to do with it, I just taped it shut and tucked it in some stack of boxes. Over the next few years, I moved several times (gotta love college), and the “Andie box” kept getting shuffled into nooks and crannies.
“Can you see inside the box? Can you be just like one of us? For those who can see inside the box will live forever And all the rest are dying soon”
-“The Box”, Abney Park
A couple years later when I started dating Mary, I remembered that I had a box of random stuff that I should do something about. I still didn't know what to do with it, so it stayed in the corner of my room under a stack of much more interesting stuff. When that relationship suddenly ended, I was left with a life full of “stuff”...which somehow reminded me of the box of random “stuff” from a different woman. After mentioning it to Matt one night, he said something on the order of “You can't have that any more. I'm taking it from your house and you're not going to argue.” So my “Andie box” went away, but I knew that it was only a temporary solution.
In my heart post-Andie, I saw ashes and destruction, as documented here. Last weekend, I followed through and reduced to ashes what little reminder remained.
Here's what dead hopes and dreams look like in case you've ever wondered. Not much to see, in a way.
Although the relationship and the accompanying feelings were long gone, I got a satisfying feeling of closure to see it all actually disappear. As I watched the flames, I pondered how many analogies to fire exist in life. The Holy Spirit is a fire, passion in your heart is a fire. Fire purifies, but fire also destroys. Fire provides warmth, which is life, but fire can burn and deprive you of that very life.
Since Matt isn't a slight pyro like me (hey, I like fire), he asked if we should include a ritual or some such. I responded that I didn't know, burning stuff seemed ritualistic enough to me. He looked up some relevant Bible passages that fit with “moving on” and not being stuck in old stuff.
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
- Revelations 21:3-5
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
- Isaiah 43:18-19
In “Hinds Feet on High Places”, every time Much Afraid goes through a significant experience with God, she picks up an evocative pebble to remind her of the lesson learned. In the end, every pebble becomes a jewel – every trial and tribulation becomes something that makes her even more beautiful in the eyes of her King. When my friend Alyssa was putting together her “husband box” containing items that defined her as a person, one of the things she included was a small jar of ashes from old boyfriends' notes. Alyssa did it as a reminder that whenever and whomever she married, her heart would be completely his.
After the flames died down, I also collected some of the ashes. Why? Because it's a reminder of where I've been, the lessons I've learned and what God has done in me since.
“Stir the embers of my heart Burn away all that is not yours Fan the fire, keep it bright Steal away all I've claimed as mine. I'm yours. Save me from myself here as I am Call me forward from where I stand Spread wide this fire till all I can see Exalted Jesus, living in me”
- "Stir the Embers", Josh Holloran
My life is in a time of sifting and a time of offering broken dead things to the flame, however I know that it's the way to follow God.
(P.S. If you ever see me and my laptop, ask to see the non-politically-correct version of the second picture...)
In Josh Harris's second book “Boy Meets Girl”, he tells the story of a young man who, after God told him to put his relationship on hold, buries the tangible parts of his relationship under a tree in his intended's yard. This was a “physical manifestation of a spiritual reality” as Jay says, a reminder that the relationship was gone.
After the end of my first dating relationship, I gathered all the tangible memories I could find and put them in a box. Not knowing exactly what to do with it, I just taped it shut and tucked it in some stack of boxes. Over the next few years, I moved several times (gotta love college), and the “Andie box” kept getting shuffled into nooks and crannies.
“Can you see inside the box? Can you be just like one of us? For those who can see inside the box will live forever And all the rest are dying soon”
-“The Box”, Abney Park
A couple years later when I started dating Mary, I remembered that I had a box of random stuff that I should do something about. I still didn't know what to do with it, so it stayed in the corner of my room under a stack of much more interesting stuff. When that relationship suddenly ended, I was left with a life full of “stuff”...which somehow reminded me of the box of random “stuff” from a different woman. After mentioning it to Matt one night, he said something on the order of “You can't have that any more. I'm taking it from your house and you're not going to argue.” So my “Andie box” went away, but I knew that it was only a temporary solution.
In my heart post-Andie, I saw ashes and destruction, as documented here. Last weekend, I followed through and reduced to ashes what little reminder remained.
Here's what dead hopes and dreams look like in case you've ever wondered. Not much to see, in a way.
Although the relationship and the accompanying feelings were long gone, I got a satisfying feeling of closure to see it all actually disappear. As I watched the flames, I pondered how many analogies to fire exist in life. The Holy Spirit is a fire, passion in your heart is a fire. Fire purifies, but fire also destroys. Fire provides warmth, which is life, but fire can burn and deprive you of that very life.
Since Matt isn't a slight pyro like me (hey, I like fire), he asked if we should include a ritual or some such. I responded that I didn't know, burning stuff seemed ritualistic enough to me. He looked up some relevant Bible passages that fit with “moving on” and not being stuck in old stuff.
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
- Revelations 21:3-5
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
- Isaiah 43:18-19
In “Hinds Feet on High Places”, every time Much Afraid goes through a significant experience with God, she picks up an evocative pebble to remind her of the lesson learned. In the end, every pebble becomes a jewel – every trial and tribulation becomes something that makes her even more beautiful in the eyes of her King. When my friend Alyssa was putting together her “husband box” containing items that defined her as a person, one of the things she included was a small jar of ashes from old boyfriends' notes. Alyssa did it as a reminder that whenever and whomever she married, her heart would be completely his.
After the flames died down, I also collected some of the ashes. Why? Because it's a reminder of where I've been, the lessons I've learned and what God has done in me since.
“Stir the embers of my heart Burn away all that is not yours Fan the fire, keep it bright Steal away all I've claimed as mine. I'm yours. Save me from myself here as I am Call me forward from where I stand Spread wide this fire till all I can see Exalted Jesus, living in me”
- "Stir the Embers", Josh Holloran
My life is in a time of sifting and a time of offering broken dead things to the flame, however I know that it's the way to follow God.
(P.S. If you ever see me and my laptop, ask to see the non-politically-correct version of the second picture...)
posted by The student of life at 12:41 PM
2 Comments:
Yup! Turns they have an app for ritualistic relational burnings.
Seriously? You should provide a link if so.
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