Smoldering Wick
My pastor quoted a verse on Christmas eve that struck me at my core. It wasn’t about the baby in the manger, or the heavenly hosts singing praises. It was Isaiah 42:3
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.”
I have a tendency to feel like the bruised reed. To feel beaten, and battered by this world or by my own condemnations. But lately, I’ve related much more to the latter half of that verse. I heard the words “smoldering wick” and saw myself so clearly.
At the end of this last year, I was burned out. I had been running full speed for months between all my responsibilities, with my trip to Taiwan as the end marker. If I could only make it there, I could rest after. Taiwan was amazing and the Lord moved mightily there, but upon returning home, I was exhausted. It was as if I had been stoking the fire for months, and Taiwan was a great surge of flame, a bright and burning light, that once over, had used up all the fuel, and the fire burned out. I had neither the energy or the desire to stoke the fire again. I was done.
But my pastor’s words, or rather, the inerrant Word of God, gently reassured me, “a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.” And I felt the smolder grow into the smallest ember.
God is always, ever, gently blowing upon the smoldering wick of my heart, coaxing it back into a flame. Sometimes I put my hand in front of the wick, to protect it from the Breath of the Almighty. Sometimes I do it in a rebellious spirit, not ready to let the flame burn out my fleshly desires, and sometimes my flesh fights the battle for me, despite my heart’s cries for warmth. In either case, God is not tired. He does not give up. Over and over again, he tenderly reaches down, grabs my hand, and pulls it away, so He can restart the fire in my heart.
I am at a loss as to why he keeps doing this. Why he doesn’t leave me to the cold depths I seem to so desperately run to. I would have given up long ago, and I have so many times, but He is never satisfied. He called me out from before time, and despite my constant failures and rebellions, he keeps fanning the flame, pursuing my heart. He is never surprised or disappointed in me, even when I am disappointed in myself. He is not content to let me smolder, but always beckons me to burn brighter, to be a light.
It’s not easy. We speak of “being on fire for the Lord,” but we don’t talk about how fire burns. Fire sears away the impurities in gold, much the same way it sears away the impurities of our flesh, and it is an uncomfortable process. It is sacrificing and giving up things that interfere with our worship of the Lord. It is painful, but we are refined through fire. Fire gives warmth and light to a lost and dying world. It’s often easier to be a smoldering wick, but I am thankful that the Lord is not content with that. That he continues to beckon me to burn brighter, to make that flame greater. And I am so, so thankful, He does not snuff me out.
It’s all right there in Isaiah 42.
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
he will not falter or be discouraged,
till he established justice on earth.
In his law, the islands will put their hope.
This is what God the Lord says-
he who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spread out the earth and all that comes out of it,
who gives breath to the people,
and life to those who walk on it:
I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness;
I will take hold of your hand.
I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people,
and a light to the Gentiles,
to open eyes that are blind,
to free captives from prison,
and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.”