All daylong I fought being cold. I resisted lifting the covers off when it was time to get out of bed. I took an extra hot shower to make up for the chill. I drove downtown, loosely gripping the frigid steering wheel of my car. During my meeting, I cradled a cup of tea to warm my hands. I walked back to the car as the frosty wind whipped through my unbuttoned coat. I cranked up the heat until I was toasty again.
Cold and hot. Cold and hot. I kept trying to find that comfortable place in the middle.
My sense of touch enables me to feel and prefer certain temperatures. It influences my proclivity toward warmth somewhere in the middle--would you call that “lukewarm?”
God, on the other hand, seems to have an aversion to lukewarm. The words of Revelation 3 come to mind. “I know all the things you do, that you are neither hot nor cold. I wish that you were one or the other! But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth!”
All day, I obediently accommodated my body’s preference for a lukewarm temperature. In what way do I, unconsciously or consciously, accomodate a lukewarm temperature toward God?
Time for confession:
- When I resist a prompting of the Spirit to speak or act on Christ's behalf.
- When I stay busy in order to avoid Spirit-led introspection.
- When I become a slave to personal comfort.
- When I follow the mindless, indifferent, self-absorbed masses traveling the wide road.
- When I treat money like it is mine.
What about you?