Flickering Flames

“The virtuous soul that is alone and without a master is like a lone burning coal; it will grow colder rather than hotter.”

John of the Cross

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been studying Jennie Allen’s book “Restless” with a few friends. I highly recommend it as both a way of helping you to find and/or clarify what it is that Father is calling you to do and as a tool for enabling people to come closer together through deep study and sharing hearts. Near the beginning of the book, Jennie likens our discipleship journey as a race. Not the first person to do so! But the analogy she gave really resonated with me. She makes specific reference to those who have fallen or become exhausted or for whatever reason are now on the floor at the side of the track, rather than in the thick of the race. She talks about how sometimes we are that person and sometimes we are the one running strong. But what draws us together and makes us stronger is when those who are running strong are willing to stop for those who are injured and discouraged. Those who are on the ground and unable to get up. The one who is running strong has the opportunity to get down on the floor with that person and be with them. They can comfort them and put courage into them so that, with time, they can be helped back onto their feet and into the race.

The beauty of the analogy struck me deeply. I’ve been that person on the side of the track, desperate for someone to stop and notice me, help me, comfort me, encourage me, lift me to my feet and support me to get back in the race. And whilst I’m thankful to have had a couple of people in my life willing to do that, I also know what it’s like to be sitting there alone.

Even as Believers, we can be so fixated on the race that we’re running that we don’t even see someone who has fallen and could use our help. And, if we’re really honest, sometimes we’re in our stride and we don’t want to stop for someone else. Or maybe we’ve been that fallen person and no one has come to our aid and we’ve done the hard work of picking ourselves us and we feel like because that’s our experience it’s ok for us to let others go through it too. Possibly we’re concerned that if we go to their aid, we’ll end up down there too.

Recently, my daughter injured herself whilst at church. What transpired in the minutes, hours and days following was a beautiful example of Church at its best. Within a few minutes, a number of her friends had come over and were sat on the floor with her. Between them, their natural dispositions and their supernatural giftings met her exactly where she was and they represented the whole range of meeting her needs. One offered her comfort, another went to fetch the first aid kit, one spoke words of hope to her, another offered their own experiences of injury and recovery, one was a little disturbed by the sight of her injury and so sought comfort in another adult, another prayed for her peace and her healing. And all of them sat on the floor right where she was.

Adults also got involved. An off-duty paramedic came and checked her over. Once it was established we would need a trip to the hospital, another adult sat on hold on the phone trying to get us a place in the queue at the hospital. Someone else went to get us food for the journey. Another person came to check where our car was and if we needed help.

That afternoon and evening, both she and I received numerous messages from people wanting to know how we were getting on. Once back home, someone dropped around cake to make her feel better. 

The following day, I received messages from yet more people asking how she was. More cake arrived! A beautiful hand-made card was delivered. People I barely knew made contact to see how she was and what they could do to help. Throughout the week, people have checked in with how she’s recovering and if we need anything. It’s been a beautiful display of the Church truly caring, not just in the moment, but ongoingly.

I’ve also been on the receiving end of someone getting down on the metaphorical floor with me as I’ve battled through situations I wish I’d never found myself in. Some of those have been of my own making and some have simply been the result of living in a fallen world. Some have involved a broken heart, shattered dreams, disappointments, betrayals, life just not working out how I thought it would. 

Most of my needs have been far less dramatic and obvious than those of my daughter. In order for someone to come alongside me, I’ve had to be willing to reach out in vulnerability and say how I’m feeling, admit the things I’ve done, speak the reality out loud when I’d rather not give voice to it.

There was a time I would never have done that. I was betrayed by someone I trusted deeply and it took a long time for me to be willing to risk again. But I’m learning that, although I would like those closest to me to guess what’s going on in my heart and my life, most often I need to be willing to speak them out. I need to take responsibility for going after the comfort or healing or hope or encouragement that I need and reach out, inviting someone else in and asking them to pray with me and for me.

Community is hugely powerful. We’re created from community, as seen in Genesis with the Trinity and we’re created for community, as we’re created in the image of our Creator. We work best in community. We miss out on the expression of the whole character of God when we walk this life alone. 

This late spurt of summer that we’re having has seen more time spent in the garden in the evenings. On a couple of occasions, we’ve grabbed blankets and lit the chiminea and watched the stars. Watching the fire, I was struck by the way the flames moved and danced. How the wind affected the height and the angle of them. But the thing that struck me the most was how fast the little bits of wood off to the side of the body of the fire went out before they were fully burned. They started with great flames but they were separated from the main heat of the centre of the fire. In the middle, the individual flames joined together to reach higher than they could on their own. When the wind blew and one piece of wood was struggling and the flame dipped, the heat of the others right next to it gave it energy and strength to stay ignited and to grow and be rekindled.

That’s the power of community. That’s what we’re called to. When we’re on the side of the track or the edge of the fire, we need someone else to come and reignite us and help us back into the fire, back into the race. 

I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit to intentionally make contact with a few people who I’d half-noticed were less engaged or struggling in some way. I took the time to notice them and reach out and I prayed that when I was the one in need, Father would provide others to do that for me and He would give me the courage to reach out for help. Sometimes we have to be willing to do the hard thing and go first. And in doing so, it gives others permission to do the same in their times of need.

Who needs you to reach out today? Who do you need to get down on the floor with and comfort? Who do you need to reach out to, to be in community with and enable your flickering flame to be supported, encouraged and built up?

“Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Likewise, two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4‬:‭9‬-‭12‬ ‭NLT‬‬