Fan Into Flame

Melissa Sharpe

You and I are standing in front of a wildfire. The flames are searing so close to your face you can feel the heat licking your tender skin. This fire appears to be consuming everything in its path; a rampage of death and destruction. I hand you a bible and tell you to throw it into the fire. Go ahead, toss it carelessly into the hungry flames.

Do you hesitate?

I believe that most in our culture would hesitate. Perhaps registered shock would grace their beautiful face. Then, with curious eyes, they would question my motive.

To this wayward soul, the fire is all too real. The hesitation is an awkward pause driven by fear. To toss the bible would admit that it isn't real; to hold tight an admission that perhaps it is real.

I remember a few years ago sitting on a plane beside the most beautiful young woman of Jewish descent. She was a doctor fresh out of medical school following in her mother's footsteps who was the head of Pediatrics for a large American hospital. She was on her way home from a brief respite before heading out to another third world country to practice medicine. I was quite impressed by the incredible life experiences of such a young woman.

I was exhausted, and on my way home from New York. After three incredibly busy days, all I desired was a moment to close my eyes. My flight companion next to me shared that she had just taken medication to calm her nerves, for flying caused great fear and anxiety in her body and mind. I knew what she needed during the flight was a friend to talk to in order to distract her restless mind.

She began to ask me questions about myself and proposed a most universal question: What do you do?

Knowing my professional resume was incredibly limited to hers, I had to think about what I really do, well... do... and say it in the simplest of terms. I told her, “I talk about Jesus.” She stared at me in shock at my boldness. Then, with curious eyes, she asked me for more.

I hesitated. I'm human. And I have the flesh to prove it. I knew there were many eyes and ears around us waiting for me answer for the commotion in the row ahead of us has come to a halt.

But then, as promised in His Word, The Lord did not leave me. The hesitation was fleeting. I felt the flames flicker within, and the flood gates of vulnerability creep open as I shared the Gospel with the young Jewish doctor.

I could have carelessly thrown her curiosity into the flames.

She began to ask more questions. I tried my best to answer them. And I told her that when one experiences Jesus, the encounter is nearly indescribable. It is a transformation from the inside-out and no person possesses the ability to erase the markings that are left upon your heart. By the end of it all, she shared with me that she had heard the exact same sentiment from someone before.

Apparently, I was watering a seed that had been previously planted.

I believe there exists two types of fire. The first is the destructive fire of the world. Far too easily we set flames in motion: we burn bridges, set fires with our loose tongues, and flick matches at the bottom of cardboard pedestals. When we are of the world, we are fire-starters. This wayward child has the burn marks to prove it. Many scars birthed by my own hands.

The second type of fire is a flame only granted by the Holy Spirit. This fire burns from the inside-out. This fire produces life when its flames extend beyond the borders of the host. Yes, when we are of Jesus, we are Hosts of the Flame. It is by this flame that bridges are built, words breathe life, and pedestals cease to be built for it is a rock we are standing upon.

The Lord has brought to my attention that I need take the Gospel farther than I dreamed to go. My heart desires to fan the flame towards those that may not know the fire. They see it, perhaps sometimes experience the warmth that radiates from the flames burning within another, but they do not know it for themselves. They do not personally know the One who created the fire in the first place.

My soul is also burning for the ones who hesitate, not just the ones who stare at me in shock, and the ones who stare at me with curious eyes. As hard as it may be to hold tight to a moment-by-moment kind of messy faith, there is nothing else I would rather clutch between my dirty hands.

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:6-7