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- Written by: Don Goulding
Take my advice and buy gold from me refined by fire so you can become rich! (Revelation 3:18)
We were boys. One of our better campfires crackled and glowed its warmth through jackets and jeans—down to the bones. Then it began. A twig was strategically tossed where orange-red waves of translucent heat jitterbugged over the coals. There was an anticipatory moment when the sacrificial stick seemed unharmed. Yellow flares hissed about its skin. Then the helpless victim writhed until it became one with the embers.
“Cool,” we said in unison.
It was an experiment that bore repeating. Hence, the selection of our objects of peril escalated to pinecones and a coke can. We thought our fire so hot there was nothing it couldn’t transform. The search for an ultimate martyr culminated in the scientific placement of a glass bottle. Ample fuel and much waiting brought the reward. Suspended on a wire hanger in the night air, and surrounded by giddy oohs and ahs, was a blob of molten glass.
I have yet to outgrow my penchant for experimentation. Now I’m testing spiritual limitations. The theoretical inquiry—how many of my choices can I yield to God and see my heart transformed? I’d like to know.
I’ve thrown my afterlife into God’s fire and witnessed it refined into the gold of assurance. Cool, what’s next? I’ve tossed my financial needs into the fire. The results were surprising. The Lord burned off worry and greed, leaving the precious metal of peace. What else can I pitch in there? I put in career choices, but these were only beginner sticks and pinecones. How about my disappointments and habits? What about pastimes and conversations? I wonder what would happen if I let my thoughts be consumed by the Lord’s fire.
One by one, I plan to feed each of these into the crucible of yielding, to see what happens.
Prayer: Lord, what can I give you today?
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But as for me, God’s presence is all I need. (Psalms 73:28)
Mid stride vigor sparked my old dog. She was chasing birds like a puppy with a purpose. Instincts cheered her on—you can do it, run harder, that one is yours. The plovers merely peeped, scissored their legs away, and—when the gap became too narrow—flew back to where the chase began.
The golden retriever spun around and redirected to other prey. Back and forth she galloped, from one bird to the next, tail riding high, a dog in her element. She was out birding with her master.
The Holy Spirit opened a wonderful truth in this scene. Those birds are like my goals. I run for all I’m worth toward a target, and as the gap closes, it flies to a new location. I regroup and head for another mark, only to see it flutter away as well. Ambitions rarely bring satisfaction. Objectives expand, change, or evaporate. I never catch the birds of there-don’t-you-feel-wonderful-because-you-made-it. But my instincts won’t let me sit and look on incomplete possibilities, so I am driven to keep up the chase.
Jesus says, “It’s okay to want the finished product, I made you that way for paradise. But don’t be troubled that, in this life, you run but never seize. The point is not arriving, it’s running, next to me.”
It’s time I learned from my dog. She’s happy running, even if she never gets near a bird. I have to let go of my pride that murmurs “I was made to be the solution to the world.” I’m not. Jesus is the solution. My place is as the object of his love.
“Have fun,” Jesus says. “Go romp, laugh, and grab after goals. But remember, you don’t have to win, you only have to be mine.”
Prayer: Sovereign Lord, my ambition is to be near you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Then I heard every creature - in heaven, on earth, under the earth, in the sea, and all that is in them - singing:
“To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb
be praise, honor, glory, and ruling power forever and ever!”
And the four living creatures were saying “Amen,” and the elders threw themselves to the ground and worshiped. (Revelation 5:13, 14)
In the midst of worship, I sometimes wonder to which part of the Trinity I should pray. Will I offend God by exclusive devotion to his Son? How does it make Father and Son feel when I only yearn for the Spirit’s presence?
If I peek into the Holy of Holies (Ezk. 3:12; Heb. 1:3; Rev. 22:1), my concern is exposed as needless human anxiety. All three share the same throne, side by side. The three in one—God the Father, Jesus the Son, Holy Spirit—perfect harmony, intertwined unity, eternal accord. Any praise to one is absorbed with joy by all three. By their unity, I am freed to worship as I will.
I can best picture Jesus. So without holding back, I hurl my being before his feet. Jesus, the object of my yearning, and of everything I hope to encounter. I see him standing amidst his many lovers, billowing robe crossed by a sash of gold—a perfect Son of Man with flaming-white hair lofting around a face of rainbow luminescence (Rev. 1:12-16; Ezk. 1:26-28). It’s a mental image worth holding onto until it melts into reality.
On the day of my completion, I’ll be a butterfly freed of its wormy cocoon. I’ll soar up to the dais, and drink in the supernova radiance of the triune God. Comprehension of the unity between the Father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit will, at last, penetrate me as brilliant points of light.
Prayer: God, I throw myself on the ground to worship you, through Jesus.