Some fires do not go out in one dramatic moment. They disappear slowly. First the flames become smaller. Then the warmth decreases. Eventually, what once burned brightly becomes little more than glowing embers beneath a layer of ash. If you looked quickly, you might assume there was no fire left at all. But sometimes, beneath what appears cold, an ember is still waiting for breath.
Our spiritual lives can be like that. Very few people deliberately decide, “From today, I am going to lose my hunger for God.” It usually happens more quietly. Prayer becomes less consistent. Other things receive our freshest attention. Worship becomes something playing in the background rather than something rising from the heart. We still love God, but the fire is no longer being tended.
Yesterday we heard the call to awaken. Today we come to the altar and discover that awakening is not enough. The altar must burn again. God gave Israel an extraordinary instruction concerning the altar:
“And the fire upon the altar shall be burning in it; it shall not be put out…” — Leviticus 6:12 KJV
Then He repeats it:
“The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out.” — Leviticus 6:13 KJV
Why was God so particular about the fire? Because this was not ordinary fire.
God Started The Fire
There is a beautiful detail elsewhere in Leviticus that changes how we understand this command. When the tabernacle worship was inaugurated, Scripture says:
“And there came a fire out from before the LORD, and consumed upon the altar the burnt offering…” — Leviticus 9:24 KJV
The original fire came from God. The priests did not stand around rubbing sticks together trying to manufacture something impressive. God supplied what only God could supply. But after God sent the fire, He gave human beings responsibility for tending it. That reveals something important about our spiritual lives: We cannot manufacture God’s fire, but we can steward what God ignites. We cannot manufacture the presence of God. We cannot produce the work of the Holy Spirit through human effort. We cannot force genuine spiritual hunger into existence.
Yet when God touches our hearts, there is a response He expects from us. Paul told Timothy:
“…stir up the gift of God, which is in thee…” — 2 Timothy 1:6 KJV
God had given the gift. Timothy had responsibility concerning what had been given. Grace does not eliminate response. There are things God ignites that we must learn to tend.
Put Wood On It Every Morning
Leviticus 6:12 contains another detail I love: “…and the priest shall burn wood on it every morning…” Every morning. There is something beautifully ordinary about those words. No trumpet. No dramatic announcement. No angel appearing every sunrise to remind the priest. He simply got up and put wood on the fire. Yesterday’s wood had already served yesterday’s flame. Perhaps this is where many of us misunderstand spiritual fire. We want powerful encounters with God, but sometimes we underestimate the power of daily tending.
Prayer is wood. The Word is wood. Worship is wood. Obedience is wood. Giving God undistracted attention is wood. These things do not manufacture His presence. They are ways we continually present ourselves before the One who gave the fire in the first place. Sometimes we are asking God for another dramatic fire-from-heaven moment while the Holy Spirit may simply be pointing toward the Bible we have not opened and saying, “There is some wood right there.” There are moments of extraordinary encounter with God, and we should treasure them. But a strong spiritual life cannot depend entirely upon extraordinary moments.
There must also be wood every morning. Perhaps 5:00 AM is not only about attending Prayer Awakening. Perhaps these thirty mornings are teaching us something much bigger: how to tend an altar.
Remove The Ashes
Before fresh wood was added, something else had to happen. Leviticus 6:10–11 describes the priest removing the ashes produced by the previous sacrifice. That may seem like an insignificant housekeeping detail, but there is revelation hiding in those ashes. Ashes are evidence of yesterday’s fire. They prove something burned. There is nothing shameful about yesterday’s ashes. Yesterday’s encounters with God are precious. Testimonies should be remembered. Answered prayers should be celebrated.
But yesterday’s ashes are not today’s fire. Sometimes we can become so attached to what God did that we stop pursuing what God is doing. “I remember how I used to pray.” “I remember when I could spend hours in His presence.” “I remember that conference.” “I remember that season when Scripture seemed to jump from every page.” Thank God for the memories. But there is fresh wood for today. You cannot keep staring at ashes and calling them fire. God has more for your relationship with Him than memories of who you used to be spiritually.
The question is not only, “Has my altar ever burned?” The question is, “What is burning now?”
Fire Is More Than A Feeling
When Christians speak about spiritual fire, it is easy to think only about emotion. We imagine loud prayer, tears, energetic worship or powerful feelings. Those things may accompany encounters with God, but they are not the definition of spiritual fire. A woman can be crying and still be resisting God. Another woman may sit quietly before Him with a heart completely surrendered.
Which one carries greater fire cannot be determined by volume. Paul writes:
“Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord.” — Romans 12:11 KJV
Spiritual fervency eventually becomes visible in the life. Fire produces hunger for God. Fire makes obedience precious. Fire makes compromise uncomfortable. Fire produces love for Scripture. Fire makes prayer more than religious duty. Fire enlarges compassion for people. Fire keeps the heart tender toward the Holy Spirit. The evidence of fire is not simply how intensely we behave in a meeting. It is what remains when the meeting is over.
The Altar Is Not For Our Entertainment
There is another truth we must remember. The altar belonged to God. The fire was not there so the priests could gather around admiring how spiritual they looked beside it. The altar was a place of sacrifice. This matters because we can become hungry for spiritual experiences without becoming equally hungry for surrender. We want to feel God’s presence, but His presence also exposes things. We want fire, but fire consumes. Paul brings the language of sacrifice directly into the New Testament:
“…present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” — Romans 12:1 KJV
Now the picture becomes deeply personal. The question is no longer simply, “Where is the altar?” The question becomes, “What am I presenting upon it?” Maybe today God is asking for your attention. Maybe He is dealing with an attitude you have defended for too long. Perhaps it is your schedule, your ambitions, your habits, your disappointment or an area where you know obedience has been delayed.
We cannot continually ask God to send fire while removing ourselves from the altar. A living sacrifice says, “Lord, here I am.”
Tend What God Ignites
You do not need to create fire today. Return to the One from whom the fire comes. If there are only embers, bring Him the embers. If your devotion has become inconsistent, begin tending it again. Put wood on the altar. Remove the ashes. Make room for fresh communion. And tomorrow morning, do it again. There is something powerful about a woman who refuses to allow her relationship with God to survive only on occasional inspiration. She learns to guard the flame.
Thirty days from now, I do not simply want us to say, “That was a wonderful programme.” I want there to be women who have rediscovered the daily altar. Women whose prayer lives are breathing again. Women whose hearts are warm toward God. Women who understand that the fire God awakens in September must still be tended in October, November and beyond.
The fire did not originate with us. But by His grace, we will tend what He ignites.
Declarations
◆ The fire upon my altar will burn again.
◆ My hunger for the presence of God is being rekindled.
◆ I receive grace to tend my relationship with God faithfully and consistently.
◆ I will not live on yesterday’s encounters; there is fresh communion with God for me today.
◆ My heart remains tender, responsive and surrendered to the Holy Spirit.
◆ Prayer, worship, Scripture and obedience are becoming living realities in my daily walk with God.
◆ Every area of spiritual coldness in me is giving way to renewed passion for God.
◆ I present my life to God as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto Him.
◆ I will faithfully steward what God is awakening within me.
◆ My altar is burning, and by the grace of God, the fire will not go out.
My Prayer For You
May the Lord breathe upon every ember within you and restore the joy of seeking Him. May your secret place become alive again, your hunger deepen, and your heart remain tender before Him. May God give you grace not only to experience His fire, but to faithfully tend what He ignites until communion with Him becomes the rhythm of your life.