Lukewarm

There were a few topics that I tried not to think about too much as a teenage PK. Being a "lukewarm" Christian was one of them.

Every once in a while, I'd hear a sermon about how important it was to be "on fire" for the Lord, how if we weren't wound up enough God would taste our lukewarm spirits and spit us out of his mouth.  I never did hear where we'd end up after that. Probably nowhere good.

I didn't want to be lukewarm, but I wasn't so sure about bursting into flame either. I never would have said this out loud in church, but I didn't think I had enough tinder in me to burst into flame without quickly crumbling into a pile of ash once the fire moved on to another "on fire" Christian.

If only there had been a smoldering option. A little flame would flicker every once in a while, sure, but mostly there would be a few tendrils of smoke and the occasional glowing ember that peeked out from the ashes of previous fires.  I could have sustained that sort of Christianity for far longer than I (attempted) to keep up with the flashy blaze that was my brief stint into being "on fire" for God.

Plus, it's much easier to properly roast a marshmallow in the belly of a fire-pit than it is in it's tendrils.