City on Fire *

Chris (my husband, not the fellow Misfit) and I went camping this past weekend. Camping teaches me. Camping gives me a chance to draw closer to God in his creation.
Today I want to share with you my thoughts of fire.
Chris (again, my sexy husband) is a pyro. Pyros make the best campfires. Chris is an expert fire-maker.
Staring into the hypnotic flames, rubbing my hands near the warmth, I learned something.
You start a fire. You build it with spaces for airflow. You force oxygen into the spark. It flames, and the flames reach higher and higher, crazy in their excitement, set free. They follow the wind--they don't care. As long as they're burning.
Those flames, neophytes, are hot, it's true. But you won't get a good roasted marshmallow from them. They'll burn the outside to a crisp and leave the inside cold. They're young. It's fun to watch them, inspiring even, but they won't cook a steak.
Then you get the coals. The flames have stopped. They don't worry about going this way or that. They settle in. And those coals, they glow with heat. It permeates, and they won't easily be put out. You hold a marshmallow over those babies, and the marshmallow will swell and soften and reach perfection.
It takes work and perseverance to make red-hot coals out of flaming logs.
This is the kind of Christian I want to be.
This is the kind of writer I want to be.
The newness of writing is exciting. The flame takes off. But it flows this way and that. A little rain, and it smolders, smokes.
Then you settle in. The heat takes hold of your coal and you know that no rain will squelch this. It emits heat that'll cook a steak. You glow.
I want to glow. And I'm beginning to realize (again) that this takes perseverance. Building a good structure that allows airflow. Forcing oxygen even when it stirs the ashes and agitates your eyes. And waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
I don't like waiting.
But I want to glow red-hot.
Glowing red-hot will set the city on fire.

**Fifty points if you can tell me the musical that has a song by the same name.