I have always asked for fire to be found within my soul.
A prayer and a plea for passion.
But what I am realizing recently is that fire always hurts.
Its flame burns away all which God sees as an enemy of divine love.
His flame targets my idols; it targets those whom I love.
In the beginning I am left bare. The pain of loss overcomes me.
I become a dead man for a season.
Yet I know this:
The ashes from will soon reveal gold.
And my aching heart will soon be a beating one.
Beating with blood few on earth will flow with
the blood of a singular love for God.

In the furnace of love, everything is flammable.

And I have entered the furnace of my unrelenting Lover.