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
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.
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."
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.
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