The Side Check- Day 17- June R&R

As I continue reading through The Call, I find myself thinking about something that has probably caused more discouragement, frustration, envy, pride, and unhappiness than we care to admit.

When we were in high school, we called it 'Side Check"- and it mostly happened in the weight room- technically, it is checking out your biceps in a mirror- but it became more as that look at yourself in the mirror for that validation that manhood was definitely becoming real.

now- here is the kicker- when we 'caught' someone doing a side check- looking at their biceps- we ripped them. One of our friends was so bad about always looking at himself in the mirror- we called him 'side-check'- yes- high school can be so cruel!

The 'side check' seems harmless enough. In fact, it often happens so naturally that we don't even notice it. But over time, it can quietly steal both our contentment and our focus. It is a combination of self comparison, others comparison, and a fight to be as high as we can on the pecking order in life.

One of the things I have observed in schools, churches, athletic programs, and organizations over the years is that most conflict is not caused by major philosophical disagreements. Most of the time it begins with people really needed to be validated... noticed... recognized- and we are wanting it TOO much and we give it out TOO little or we give it out with the wrong standards of validation.

Years ago I received two phone calls from football coaches in our lower grades within about twenty minutes of each other.

The first coach called and informed me that he was prepared to resign unless I immediately dismissed another coach on the staff. I listened carefully and tried to understand the problem. When we finally got to the bottom of it, there really wasn't a major issue beyond the fact that he simply felt disrespected and his ideas were never considered.

About five minutes after hanging up, the second coach called.

He wanted me to fire the first coach. At that point I knew we had a problem.

As I listened to both men, it became obvious that this wasn't really about football. We want to be not only accepted but respected. No one wants to be ignored.

It was about two people who had become focused on each other instead of the mission.

I got them together and we ‘made it’ through a tension filled season. Only to see both of them go after that, but at least it gave me time to find adequate help in a more reasonable time table.

That seems to happen more often than we realize.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that self absorption is one of the great enemies of calling. The moment I become preoccupied with how elevated I am among my peers, I usually lose sight of what we are trying to accomplish. It is slightly different than selfishness... it is more subtle and deeper. If I don't matter to you then I am not going to work with you.

Now this cuts both ways, we can go around a room a size everyone up and we value those we esteem and could not care less about those 'below' us. It is part of our default nature- higher order thinking- compare and contrast- but it is a gateway to hurt and sin.

C.S. Lewis touches on this idea in a way that may be different in his intention. In God in the Dock, he describes a cantankerous old woman who is a Christian and compares her to a pleasant and likeable man who is not. Lewis points out that we really have no way of knowing what raw materials God started with in either life. The woman may be far more transformed than we realize. The pleasant fellow may be much less transformed than he appears.

We do not know enough to make the comparisons we constantly make. We should esteem everyone made in the image of God and what GOD says about someone is more important than what we think AND what He says about ME is more important than what I think.

As a young girl, missionary Amy Carmichael desperately wanted blue eyes. She prayed again and again, asking God to change her brown eyes, but the answer always seemed to be no. Years later, while serving in India and rescuing children from dangerous situations, Amy often dressed like the local people to avoid drawing attention to herself. She then realized that her brown eyes helped her blend in, while blue eyes would have made her stand out immediately. Looking back, she understood that God had answered her childhood prayer in a better way than she could have imagined. What seemed like an unanswered prayer was actually part of God's preparation for the work He had planned for her life.

And yet we build entire narratives based on incomplete information.

Social media has only amplified this problem. We are constantly exposed to carefully selected highlights from other people's lives. Vacations, promotions, achievements, celebrations, and successes stream across our screens every day. If we are not careful, we begin evaluating our ordinary Tuesday against someone else's highlight reel.

That never ends well- the 'side check' can create two opposite problems.

Sometimes we look sideways and become envious.

Sometimes we look sideways and become prideful.

Neither response is healthy. Both pull us away from gratitude and contentment.

and it totally confuses calling- our mission is only about ME?

One of my favorite moments in the Gospel of John occurs after Jesus restores Peter. After speaking to Peter about his future, Peter immediately points toward John and asks:

"Lord, what about this man?"

I love Jesus' answer.

In modern language, it essentially amounts to:

"What is that to you? You follow me."

God has never asked me to manage someone else's calling. He has asked me to be faithful with what He has entrusted to me. And His request- We Love Him and we Love others.

As part of this June Tune-Up, it may be worth asking where the side check has crept into our thinking.

Perhaps one of the healthiest spiritual disciplines is simply learning to keep our eyes on Christ and our hands on the work He has given us to do. Esteem others and let God validate us.

1 Peter 5:6- Humble yourselves under God's strong hand, and in his own good time he will lift you up.

I used to think that meant we would finally get 'recognition' and now I don't believe that. He will lift us up to keep working in anonymity. And we don't care, because all we need to hear is his encouragement.

Starting tomorrow, Os Guinness takes a dramatic turn in “The Call” where he begins outlining the 7 Deadly Sins and how they can up-end or confuse calling… I remember when I first read the book how stunning it was to read starting with Chapter 14. What had been a pretty interesting read up to that point, became elevated to years of interaction and memories…. Here we go!

The Freedom of Thinking Less About Yourself- Day 16- June R&R

As I have continued reading through The Call, I noticed that Guinness begins moving in a slightly different direction. Up to this point, much of the discussion has centered around calling, purpose, vocation, community, and faithfulness. 

I’m going on a 2 day holding pattern before we jump into Ch 14 of ‘The Call’ for a little prep on the turn Guinness takes in his book.

The following is a VERY difficult topic- so please bear with me!

Several years ago I came across a statement that has stayed with me ever since:

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less."

Most people attribute that quote to C. S. Lewis, and whether he actually said it or not, the idea is deeply biblical.

In our culture, especially in the South- we don't do humility very well. I call it the "Aww shucks" humilty

"Aww shucks, we ain't going to be very good this year."

"Aww shucks, don't brag on that boy, it'll just give him the big head."

For a long time I misunderstood humility. I thought humility meant putting myself down, minimizing accomplishments, or pretending that strengths did not exist. I have since come to believe that this isn't humility at all. In some cases, it is simply another form of self-absorption.

A person can spend just as much time thinking about how terrible they are as another person spends thinking about how wonderful they are. In both cases, self remains at the center of attention.

Biblical humility is different.

Paul writes in Romans 12:3:

"For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment..."

I have always appreciated that phrase "sober judgment."

The older I get, the more freedom I find in that.

I am who I am because God made me, knows me, chose me, and loves me. There are things I do reasonably well. There are plenty of things I do poorly. Some strengths have served me throughout my life, and some weaknesses continue to humble me on a regular basis.

The good news is that I no longer have to spend quite so much energy trying to prove myself.

Looking back, I can see how much of life is driven by comparison. Schools compare. Athletes compare. Coaches compare. Have you ever heard this quote?

"Comparison is the thief of joy"

This is attributed to Theodore Roosevelt (although there is no definitive evidence that he ever said or wrote those exact words). Regardless of its origin, the quote carries a powerful truth: constantly measuring our lives against those of others can rob us of contentment and gratitude. When we focus on what others have achieved, possessed, or experienced, we often lose sight of our own blessings and accomplishments. True joy is found not in competing with others, but in appreciating our unique journey, embracing our gifts, and being thankful for what we have been given.

And that compare and compete model is exhausting!

There is always someone more talented. Someone more successful- more influential.

Someone with a better story, a better opportunity, a better platform, or a better season of life.

If our peace depends on winning those comparisons, we are going to live frustrated.

Paul counters:

"Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else." (Galatians 6:4)

Peter writes:

Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (1 Peter 5:5 ESV)

That verse has become more meaningful to me over the years because I have learned that humility is not primarily about lowering yourself. It is about placing yourself properly under God.

If I allow God to be the highest- I am free to celebrate another person's success- I receive correction without collapsing. I can serve without needing recognition.I can tell the truth without worrying excessively about public approval.

None of that comes naturally AND certainly doesn't come naturally to me.

An example I have seen of humility came from a teacher who would regularly cover responsibilities for other faculty members when they forgot an assignment. What impressed me was not the act itself but the fact that nobody ever knew about it. There was no announcement. No complaint. No subtle reminder later. The need simply got handled.

Now- I have to be careful here- was that teacher PROUD of dong that? Did they hold resentment or a sense of superiority for doing that? Were they questioning whether too much help may be actually a type of co-dependence and more harm than good? Did they feel humble enougb to have a conversation in love with that other teacher to make sure she didn't carry any resentment or guilt? See how subtle and complicated humility/pride is!

Real humility is - there is something I can do to serve - glad to do it- and want no recognition... it is what we do. And if it becomes a pattern, maybe a conversation about it- "Hey are you OK?- I have noticed... I don't mind- I surely have my issues- please understand I love you- how can I help? Just tell me what you think! I'm OK- you would do the same for me!"- and be truthful about it ALL.

That kind of quiet service has always impressed me more than public displays of importance.

The same is true when I think about people who receive criticism well. I have watched teachers, coaches, and leaders respond to unfair criticism with patience and grace. It is not weakness. It is strength under control. They cared more about understanding and serving than about protecting their ego.

In storms of criticism and controversy- false humility can evaporate- There is a great example in the Bible regarding David.

David, the shepherd-king of Israel, faced such a storm during one of the most painful seasons of his life. In 2 Samuel 16, as David fled from his son Absalom's rebellion, a man named Shimei hurled stones at him, both literal and figurative. Shimei accused David of being a man of blood and blamed him for the downfall of Saul's house. It was unjust. It was cruel. But David’s response was nothing short of remarkable.

When David’s warrior, Abishai, offered to kill Shimei, David stopped him, saying:

"Let him curse, because the Lord has said to him, 'Curse David.' Who then shall say, 'Why have you done so?'" (2 Samuel 16:10)

David chose not to fight back. Instead, he acknowledged that perhaps Shimei’s words, though painful, were part of God’s plan. He saw his suffering through the lens of humility and divine sovereignty.

David’s response challenges us to take a posture of humility when stones are thrown our way. This doesn’t mean that every criticism or attack is justified, but it does mean recognizing that even opposition can be used by God to refine us. Sometimes, the rain of adversity is meant to wash away our pride, our need for control, or our false sense of righteousness.

Like David, we can ask:

What is God teaching me through this?

Is there a truth hidden in the criticism that I need to hear?

Can I trust God to be my defender instead of taking matters into my own hands?

There’s another layer to David’s humility—he doesn’t deny his own faults. David had made terrible mistakes, including his sin with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah. While Shimei’s accusations were not entirely accurate, David might have felt that some of the stones he faced were a natural consequence of his past actions.

In the same way, we often face storms of our own making. A harsh word spoken in anger comes back to haunt us. A decision made in selfishness leads to relational fallout. In those moments, we can do what David did: accept the rain, confess our shortcomings, and trust in God's mercy to bring restoration.

David’s hope in the middle of his humiliation is striking. He said:

"It may be that the Lord will look on the wrong done to me, and that the Lord will repay me with good for his cursing today." (2 Samuel 16:12)

David trusted that God saw his affliction and would act on his behalf in His own time. This trust allowed David to endure the stones without losing heart.

We, too, can find hope in the storm. God sees. God knows. And God promises that, for those who trust Him, even the worst storms will ultimately work for good (Romans 8:28).

When opposition comes your way—whether it's criticism, betrayal, or the natural consequences of your own failures—take a moment to pause. Instead of reacting in anger or despair, try adopting David’s posture:

Receive the rain with humility. 

Meekness is not weakness.

Ask God what He wants to teach you.

Trust that He sees your affliction and will bring good from it.

Don't compare yourself to others.

And when people say good things, don't say "Aww shucks, I ain't no good ma'am" say "Thank you, that means a lot, and to be honest God deserves the glory and the credit."

And this all comes from a result of letting God increase and letting you decrease- John 3:30

Song Links:

Compared to What?

Proud of My Humility

Let Them Throw Stones

The Call to Community- Day 15- June R&R

Note: Where I am in the book, The Call is thoughts that come out of chapter 12/13. Thoughts about the struggles we have living in a community of people… who are sinners… like me.

As I continue reading  I find myself spending quite a bit of time thinking about community and relationships. Guinness makes the observation that the call of Jesus is personal but not purely individual, and that simple statement hit me differently this time than it did when I first read the book.

I spent a lot of years assuming I was fairly "extroverted".

But then the truth came out more than a few years ago- one of my daughters looked across the dinner table during a family meal and said, "Dad, we all know you're a highly functioning introvert." Everybody laughed. Including me.

But as is often the case, there was probably more truth in the statement than I wanted to admit.

The funny thing is that if you had known me in middle school or high school, you might have come to a completely different conclusion. I was in plays. I enjoyed being around people. I liked making people laugh. I was usually comfortable speaking in front of groups and never had much trouble stepping into leadership roles.

Looking back, I think some of that was being the oldest child and some of it was simply learning how to function in the environments God placed me in.

But somewhere along the way, probably beginning in my late teens and continuing through college and adulthood, I started noticing something else. I kept drifting inside my brain.

Not lonely. Just alone. - Those are very different things.

Some people hear the word solitude and immediately think of isolation or sadness. That has rarely been my experience. Some of my favorite moments have involved a book, a journal, a fishing rod, a long walk, or simply sitting quietly thinking about life. And the Holy Spirit communes with me there.

Even writing these devotionals is a product of solitude. The problem, however, is that every strength has a shadow side.

Solitude is a wonderful place to think, pray, read, write, and reflect. It is also a wonderful place to become self-absorbed if you're not careful.

One of the reasons I hesitate even writing about this is because I don't want to accidentally glorify withdrawal. Jesus withdrew frequently, but He withdrew to pray. My own retreats into solitude have not always been nearly that noble.

Sometimes they have simply been easier. People are hard. But when you get away from them they become even harder and to them you are just weird.

And if you're wired the way I am, there is always a temptation to retreat into a private world where everything feels more manageable.

The older I get, however, the more I realize how much of God's work in my life has happened through other people. My wife has certainly shaped me. My children have shaped me. Where would I be without them!

Friends, coaches, pastors, teachers, co-workers, and even difficult people have shaped me.

In fact, when I think about the most important lessons I have learned, very few came from sitting alone in a room. Most came through relationships. Sure, I get away and reflect... this helps me to withdraw the marrow from the encounters so to speak- but without human interaction, there is less to evaluate and you lose out on opportunities to learn and grow.

That may be why Guinness spends so much time emphasizing that calling is never merely individual. God certainly calls us personally, but He almost always works out that calling in the context of families, churches, friendships, schools, teams, and communities.

I suppose that shouldn't surprise us. One of the first things God says in Scripture is, "It is not good for man to be alone."

That was true before the Fall, which means loneliness and isolation are not merely consequences of sin. We were created for fellowship from the beginning.

I still enjoy my "turtle days." I suspect I always will. There are times when I need quiet in order to think clearly. But I have also learned that if I stay in that shell too long, I begin to lose perspective.

The truth is that I need people far more than I admit.

And one of the gifts of growing older is realizing that dependence is not weakness. It is simply part of how God designed us.

Maybe that is part of what Guinness is getting at in this chapter. Calling is not something we discover and carry out by ourselves. God places us in communities not because they are efficient or easy, but because they are one of the primary ways He shapes us.

Our culture does very little to encourage community- Satan rages against it- he wants us to hate our neighbor, not spend time with them. He wants to sow conspiracy, and misunderstanding.... God wants us together in groups as individuals (there is a really big distinction here- not a mass amount of people under the rule of an authoritarian, living like robots... NO- God wants us to engage in groups, learn together, activate individual gifts, and even disagree with understanding- a true body of unity and not unanimity- Unity is not thinking alike; it is working together despite not thinking alike.)

As I think about this June Tune-Up, I find myself grateful for the people God has placed in my life. Some have encouraged me. Some have challenged me. Some have frustrated me. Most have done all three.

And even though I disappear at times to heal up and think- at some point I need to re-engage with others. I am very bad at being a Lone Ranger.

And confessing these realities is also a path to healing and restoration. This is Day 15- are you re-discovering 'normal' yet? Get around a few others and just laugh. Not everything has to be serious! It's ok even to laugh at yourself- you don't have to judge every flaw.

The Spot Remains- Day 14- June R&R

As I continued reading through The Call, I found myself stopping at a statement that Os Guinness makes in the chapter "People of the Call." He quotes an observation that human beings cannot gaze directly at two realities for very long without losing their bearings: the glory of God and the darkness of human evil.

That struck me because it seems that much of modern culture is attempting to solve one of those problems by simply changing the language surrounding it.

Over the last several decades, we have become increasingly convinced that if we can remove a label, we can remove the reality behind it. If a behavior is no longer called sin, perhaps the guilt associated with it disappears. If a moral boundary is redefined, perhaps the consequences become less severe. If enough people agree that something is acceptable, perhaps it actually becomes acceptable.

The problem is that life rarely works that way.

One of the things I have observed over the years is that human beings are remarkably good at rationalizing almost anything. We can justify decisions, explain motives, excuse behavior, and convince ourselves that what we are doing is perfectly reasonable. Yet even with all of our sophistication and psychological insight, the human conscience remains surprisingly stubborn.

We can rename things, but the spot remains.

That is one reason I think Romans 1 continues to resonate, even in a culture that increasingly rejects its conclusions. Paul's argument is not merely that people commit sins. His argument is that people suppress truth. There is a profound difference between the two. One is an action. The other is a posture toward reality itself.

The older I get, the less interested I become in winning arguments and the more interested I become in understanding why people seem so restless. Why do people who achieve success still feel empty? Why do people who finally get what they wanted often find themselves disappointed? Why does the human heart continue searching long after it appears to have found everything it was looking for?

Augustine's famous observation still seems to explain more than most modern theories:

"Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Thee."

I think Guinness is pointing toward something similar. Calling is not simply about discovering what we are supposed to do with our lives. It is about being restored to the One who gave us life in the first place.

That may be why Peter connects calling and holiness so naturally. When he writes, "As He who called you is holy, you also be holy," he is reminding believers that calling is not merely vocational. It is relational. The Caller shapes the called.

That is not a particularly popular idea today because holiness sounds restrictive while self-expression sounds liberating. Yet I have spent enough years around people to notice that self-expression alone rarely produces peace. People can be remarkably free to do whatever they wish and still remain deeply unhappy.

Perhaps that is because we were not designed merely for freedom. We were designed for fellowship with God.

As I think about this chapter during this June Tune-Up, I find myself less concerned with cultural debates and more concerned with personal honesty. It is easy to identify the problems "out there." It is harder to ask where I may still be suppressing truth, excusing sin, or avoiding obedience in my own life.

One of the themes that keeps resurfacing throughout The Call is that God calls people to Himself before He calls them to anything else. If that is true, then finding our aim begins not with career planning, giftedness assessments, or life strategies, but with a willingness to walk honestly before God.

Because until that relationship is restored, the restlessness remains- the spot remains still

One of the most haunting scenes in all of literature occurs near the end of Shakespeare's Macbeth. After helping orchestrate murder and deception in pursuit of power, Lady Macbeth begins sleepwalking through the castle, endlessly rubbing her hands and crying, "Out, damned spot! Out, I say!" The tragedy of the scene is that there is no actual stain on her hands. No amount of water is going to remove what troubles her because the spot is not physical—it is moral. Her conscience is bearing witness against her, and she discovers what human beings have always discovered: guilt cannot simply be scrubbed away by effort, denial, rationalization, or the passage of time. Shakespeare understood something that Scripture has taught for centuries. We can change the language, explain the behavior, or try to suppress the truth, but the spot remains until it is dealt with at its source..

I found the same issue with Rev. Dimmesdale in the Scarlet Letter- he even tried the old practice of medieval mortification… to no avail!

One of the reasons this matters during a June Tune-Up is that many of us arrive at summer assuming our deepest need is rest. Sometimes it is. We need sleep. We need margin. We need time with family. We need to slow down.

But sometimes what we call exhaustion is actually something deeper. We have spent months running hard while neglecting the condition of our souls. We have become distracted, spiritually dull, or disconnected from the Lord. The result is that we feel tired in places that a vacation cannot reach.

That is why confession has always been such an important part of the Christian life. Confession is not merely admitting wrong behavior. It is agreeing with God about reality. It is stepping out of the shadows, putting aside the excuses, and allowing His grace to reach places we have been hiding. Strangely enough, that process which sounds so uncomfortable often becomes one of the most refreshing experiences in the Christian life.

David understood this in Psalm 32 when he described the misery of hiding his sin and then the relief that came when he finally confessed it. The burden was not lifted because David became a better man. The burden was lifted because he stopped carrying it alone.

Perhaps part of being refreshed this June is not discovering something new at all. Perhaps it is simply returning to what we already know: God is holy, God is gracious, and God welcomes honest people. The spot remains when we cover it. It begins to disappear when we bring it into the light.

"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil (Aphorism 146): 

Song Link: The Abyss

A Better Fire- Day 13- June R&R

As you may know, this series is basically a re-reading of The Call by Os Guinness and a re-working of a devotional series I wrote back in 2014 called My Aim. What has surprised me most is that I have not really been editing old material as much as replacing it. The book hits me differently now than it did a decade ago, and frankly, I am not the same person who was writing those thoughts.

I suppose that should not surprise me. The pace of change around us is staggering. Technology, culture, education, leadership, communication, even the way people think about identity and purpose seem to be changing at a dizzying pace. It is no wonder so many people feel exhausted, burned out, discouraged, or left behind.

That is why Chapter 10 caught me off guard.

When we feel worn down, our natural instinct is usually to pull back. We want rest. We want relief. We want a chance to cool the engines for a while. There is certainly a place for that. God built rhythms of rest into creation itself. But here is Guinness talking about a consuming fire.

That image immediately grabbed my attention because I have always loved fires. I can sit and watch a campfire for hours. There is something mesmerizing about it. The movement, the heat, the unpredictability, the way a fire seems alive.

Guinness tells the story of Churchill sitting and staring into a fire, watching the wood slowly collapse into glowing coals and eventually into ash. As I thought about that image, I realized there may be two very different kinds of exhaustion.

One comes from spending our lives chasing things that never really satisfy. We burn ourselves up pursuing recognition, comfort, success, possessions, status, or approval. Eventually there is nothing left but smoke and ashes.

But there is another kind of exhaustion that comes from being fully spent in a worthy cause. A block of wood that has given everything it had to the fire does not regret becoming charcoal. It fulfilled its purpose.

That thought immediately brought me to another fire in Scripture—the burning bush.

Unlike every other fire, the bush burned but was not consumed. The source of the fire was not the bush itself. The fuel came from somewhere else.

I think that is an important distinction.

Many of us spend years trying to sustain ourselves through ambition, personality, talent, achievement, or sheer determination. Those things work for a while. In fact, they can work remarkably well for a season. But eventually every human source of energy begins to fade.

What if the real question is not whether I still have enough fuel? What if the question is whether I am connected to the right source?

As I have reflected on this chapter, I find myself wanting something more than mere maintenance. I do not want to spend the second half of life simply preserving what remains. I do not want to become one of those people who spends most of their energy reminiscing about better days, bigger opportunities, or past accomplishments.

I find myself praying something entirely different: "Lord, give me a better fire."

One of the more interesting observations Guinness makes near the end of the chapter is that Christianity does not really have an equivalent to the Greek pursuit of excellence. At first glance that seems true. Christians sometimes produce things that feel like second-rate versions of what the broader culture creates. We have all seen examples of that.

But I wonder if we sometimes evaluate excellence too early.

Psalm 73 has always fascinated me because the Psalmist spends most of the chapter envying the prosperity of the wicked. They seem successful. They seem healthy. They seem admired. Everything appears to be working in their favor while he struggles.

Then he says something that changes the entire psalm:

"Until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end."

The end matters. Not simply how brightly we burn in our twenties.... how am I doing at The End?

As I continue to think about calling, I find myself caring more and more about finishing well. I cannot stop the aging process. I cannot recover lost years. I cannot slow the march of time.

As I look at posts, songs, poems, devotional I have written since I turned 60 I see how much this has dominated my thinking... I need to move on at some point to avoid the charge of 'over-dramatic' about it. In the end, it is just the inevitable.

But I'm also not going to wait around for it- .... consume me.

Song Link: Fire

(Verse 1)
I've watched a thousand fires burning,
Some rose bright and quickly died,
Chasing comfort, chasing glory,
Leaving only ash behind.
I've fed the flames with my own strength,
Thinking I could stand alone,
But every spark I tried to kindle
Faded when the fuel was gone.

(Pre-Chorus)
Then You showed me something different,
A fire that does not consume,
Like a bush upon the mountain,
Filled with holy light and truth.

(Chorus)
Give me a better fire,
Not one fueled by my desire,
Not by praise or earthly gain,
Not by pride's exhausting flame.
Give me a fire from Your glory,
One that tells a greater story,
So when all my days are through,
What's left will point to You.

(Verse 2)
Time has taught me what endurance
Really means along the way,
Not preserving fading embers,
But surrender day by day.
I don't want to spend these years
Looking backward through the smoke,
I want every breath remaining
Given fully to Your call.

(Pre-Chorus)
For the source of lasting power
Isn't found in what I do,
It is found in staying near You,
Letting Heaven see me through.

(Chorus)
Give me a better fire,
Not one fueled by my desire,
Not by praise or earthly gain,
Not by pride's exhausting flame.
Give me a fire from Your glory,
One that tells a greater story,
So when all my days are through,
What's left will point to You.

(Bridge)
Many fires burn for glory,
Many flames burn for applause,
But the fire that lasts forever
Burns for Christ and for His cause.
Keep me near the source of mercy,
Keep me resting in Your Son,
Till the final ember whispers,
"By His grace, the work is done."

(Chorus)
Give me a better fire,
Not one fueled by my desire,
Not by praise or earthly gain,
Not by pride's exhausting flame.
Give me a fire from Your glory,
One that tells a greater story,
So when all my days are through,
What's left will point to You.
Not consumed, yet ever burning,
Held within Your faithful hand.
Not retreating, not surrendering,
Kept by grace until the end.