Withdrawing from the light - In Other Words

"Remember this. When people choose to withdraw far from a fire, the fire continues to give warmth, but they grow cold. When people choose to withdraw far from light, the light continues to be bright in itself but they are in darkness. This is also the case when people withdraw from God."

~Augustine~

One can only ask oneself - why?  Why would anyone, why would I, withdraw from light and warmth, much less from God Himself?  And yet, I have done so on numerous occasions in my life, and probably so have you.

If I am honest, those times when I have withdrawn from the fire of God in my spirit, it was likely for one of two reasons:
      1.  I thought it was getting too hot for my comfort.  That is, the intensity of what God was telling me, and the consequences that might occur if I listened and obeyed, were simply more than I was willing to risk at that moment.
     2.  I feared the ridicule of others who might deem me too "religious" - some kind of whacko zealot - who really needed to dial it down a notch.

We humans love to be comfortable.  We like our recliners, our lounging pajamas, our hot coffee or tea, and our favorite slippers.  We love the comfort of a warm fireplace on a cold evening, and there is nothing wrong with any of that. 

But when God's spirit encourages us to reach out, to venture beyond our comfort zone for someone else's welfare, the potential risks and consequences sometimes seem too hard to contemplate. 

So we quietly move away from the fire.

When we withdraw from the light, well, that one is much more obvious.  God's word tells us in Matthew that men do this because they "love the darkness" because their deeds are evil.  Ouch!  Surely that is a little harsh?  I mean most of the world today seems to doubt there even is such a thing as actual evil, although how they can doubt it's existence is beyond me.  Have they read a newspaper lately?

Once when we were on a camping trip, we arrived late at night, and it was cold and dark.  We hooked up hurriedly, but suddenly something went amiss and the whole trailer floor was flooded with cold water about an inch deep.  My husband, God bless him, told me to go ahead and get into bed where it was at least dry, if not warm, while he dealt with the burst hose and the mess.  So I did - cold and dry at least beat cold and wet.

You know, now that I think of it, I have sometimes done this in "real life."  That is, instead of dealing with the messiness of life, whether my own mess or someone else's, I have chosen to stay "cold and dry" - not comfortable, but less uncomfortable than if I waded into the situation God had allowed to occur in my life.

Nevertheless, God still offers us warmth and light, whenever we are courageous, or trusting, enough to move toward Him.  Isn't that amazing?   Have a wonderful day. ...Marsha Y.