By Sandra Bost
We moved our motorhome this week! It was time.
Work-camping at our last stop was a blessing for working out the RV kinks and saving money, but our bodies don’t bounce back from manual labor like they used to. Plus, a new project needs our full attention — so away we went.
Our new spot is everything I pictured simple living to be: nestled in shade, surrounded by trees, with our floral rug finally lying flat. We have a proper picnic table holding my late mother-in-law’s pothos, flanked by memory wind chimes, and our favorite hand-painted slate shingle. (When we went nomadic, I used paint thinner to update “Established 1994” to “2025” — I’ll repaint it if we ever move back to brick and mortar!)
The curtains stay open, letting in light — expanding the view. And our pup loves watching birds from his cozy bed as I enjoy my morning Costa Rican coffee at the picnic table before teaching. We are officially happy campers!
While packing up the ranch, I ran into the infamous fuel can — the one behind my recent “chemical peel” (church-speak for my brush pile explosion). *See August 18th’s edition.
Honestly, it stopped me in my tracks. But as I stood there staring at that red plastic mistake, the Lord connected another spiritual dot.
It was brought home this past Sunday when we sang “Light a Fire” by David Leonard at church. The title alone was a little too on the nose for me! But it was the chorus that resonated deeply:
“Light a fire that the world can’t burn out /
Fan the flame ’til nothing between us remains /
My life is an altar to You /
Breathe again on the embers that burn in my heart /
A love taken back to the start /
My life is an altar to You.”
It reminded me of how easily our human hearts grow cold in the busyness of life. Even as believers who deeply love Jesus, we let good and necessary things quietly pull us away from the Source of Holy Fire.
Looking back on how haphazardly I grabbed that red can, I remember feeling completely confident. I thought it was diesel — just a slow, steady burn to get things moving. Instead, it was gasoline, and it blew up right in my face. Remembering my singed eyebrows and burning skin, it hit me: how often do I do the exact same thing spiritually?
When my heart feels heavy or depleted, I reach for the nearest quick fix — a bag of chips, my own stubborn willpower, a late-night TV binge, a passing compliment, or endless scrolling. I convince myself these little substitutes will give me the boost I need. But just like that gas can, every self-made spark backfires, leaving me right back where I started — reminded that only Jesus, through prayer and His Word, can sustain real Fire in me.
In Leviticus 6, Yahweh gave Moses specific instructions for Aaron and the priests regarding their daily duties. They were to maintain the altar fire continuously: “Fire shall be kept burning on the altar continually; it shall not go out” (Leviticus 6:13). Later in Leviticus 9, God Himself provided the initial spark with Supernatural Fire. It wasn’t the priests’ job to manufacture the flame, but to faithfully tend, feed, and preserve what God had already given.
Keeping that Divine Fire alive required daily human effort — clearing away ashes, stacking fresh wood each morning, and arranging the offerings. Under the New Covenant, we no longer bring animal sacrifices to a tabernacle. Jesus fulfilled the ultimate, once-for-all sacrifice, and the Holy Spirit came down as tongues of fire at Pentecost to dwell within us.
Today, our lives are the altar. We don’t have to manufacture the flame, but we are called to daily “fan into flame” the gift of the Spirit through prayer, Scripture, and simple (and not so simple) surrender.
So as you navigate your own busy week, take a look at what you’re reaching for when you feel weary or like your heart has grown cold. Are you trying to throw gasoline on a fading spark with quick worldly fixes, or are you laying down fresh wood at the feet of the One who kindled the flame? Let’s commit to tending the altar of our hearts today—because He is endlessly worthy of a fire that never goes out.
Let’s pray: Father God, Yahweh, forgive us for the times we have turned to quick fixes, human willpower, and worldly distractions to fill the empty places in our hearts. Thank You for sending Jesus as the ultimate sacrifice and placing Your Holy Spirit within us as an unquenchable flame. Teach us to daily tend the altar of our lives. Fan into flame the gift of Your Spirit within us so that our hearts become a place where worship, love, and sweet incense rise to you day and night, night and day.
Amen.
Fan the Flame, Friends!
