While on a medical/evangelistic outreach in a rural area in the western highlands of Guatemala Robin and I were hosted for 5 days by a local family. Their home was modest with basic appointments like a wood burning cook stove and running water, in that you had to run outside to bring the water in by bucket. Sheets hung over cords became our haven-of-rest for the next week. The outreach schedule had us up early and back late daily. It was wet season, so highland mornings were cold, giving way to sunny humid conditions, and finally, clouding over with heavy rains into the night with temperatures low enough to see your breath. This cycle repeating daily.

First thing after waking, we would gravitate toward the warm visible glow in the heart of the stove. We had quickly become accustomed to the pots of hot water that were ever-present around the clock for cooking, washing, or bathing. At the end of each day, cold and tired we returned to our host’s home, drawn by the thought of that steadily burning hearth. Fuel for the fire was slowly and constantly added to maintain a bed of embers that heated the stovetop and radiated outward a few feet, warming walls and floors. Depending on how tall you were, logs could be advanced by hand, hip, or foot.

In short order, we each came to expect and depend on that fire, and that all its benefits would always be there for us. It is here that I began to see a parallel between the fire in our hearts for doing the things of God, and the glowing embers steadily expending their energy within the heart of that stove. Anyone–be you missionary, mom, pastor, or pipefitter–can let the fire fade if not tending to it regularly. For the Christian, what is fuel for the fire? Well, it’s found in the form of time in the Word of God and prayer. What do you say? Let’s stop right now and throw another log on the fire?