When the Lights Go Out: God Fans His Embers of Love
Photo by Stephanie Hanno Photography
An Essay by Deborah Rutherford
My heart raced after presenting my new play for LMU’s Theatre Arts department senior project. What happened next was unexpected: my professor, Sister Judith, ushered me out the back door. I squinted against the brilliant blue sky as she cautioned me to be mindful, for my classmates were not like me. I'm sure I flushed as I dodged her gaze. Did she know I had turned from God at the precious age of sixteen? That I carried the heavy trauma of a stolen childhood? On reflection, my words were filled with questions, searching, and raw anger toward God. Then Sister Judith gave me words to cling to. She said I had a lifeline to God, and I would be okay. She was right; one day, I would find my way back to my Savior, Jesus, and surrender my whole heart to Him.
But in between, I wandered as if trapped in a dark labyrinth with no way out. How had I ended up there? How did my heart, once ablaze with God's passion, become smothered embers?
Much like the Israelites in Isaiah's day, I had banished God from my heart, bound by the fear of man rather than reverence for God: "inasmuch as these people draw near with their mouths and honor Me with their lips, but have removed their hearts far from Me, and their fear toward Me is taught by the commandment of men," (Isaiah 29:13, NKJV).Without God in my heart, I lacked ears to listen, eyes to see, and a spirit to obey Him (Jeremiah 7:21–24).
As I look back, I see darkness lurked, seeking to devour me, as warned in 1 Peter 5:8–9: "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world" (NKJV).
During my prodigal years, God seemed so far away. Now I realize He was always there, softly fanning the embers in my heart. With every breathtaking sunrise, every twinkling star in the midnight sky, and every vast, rolling desert, He was there, leading me inward, reigniting the dormant flames within. Now, in my middle years, after thirty years of wandering, God brought me out of the wilderness in a wondrous, divine way, drawing me closer to Himself.
On the morning of my mother's passing, as I approached the hospital, two white doves soared through the traffic ahead of me. They glided toward my windshield before ascending into the heavens. I remember whispering, "There she goes." I knew she was in Heaven because God had sent two doves to tell me so. It would be another six months before I would open the crisp pages of a Bible and feel the Holy Spirit fill me. But in that moment, on the bustling 405 freeway, with tears spilling down my cheeks, God's embers ignited, and the Spirit grew and grew.
Despite my wandering years, God did not leave me to my demise, to fade into the darkness. He is a patient, loving Father who was calling me home. Even though I was sealed by the Holy Spirit, I had quenched the ardor of God. The embers of my heart were faint, doused by life's trials, spiritual dryness, and neglect of spiritual practice. My heart, once radiant, grew cool and then cold as I rebelled against God and drifted away. If I had been attuned to God, I would have heard Him, as Paul admonished in 1 Thessalonians 5:19: “Do not quench the Spirit” (NKJV). This is an exhortation we must take to heart, ensuring our flames do not dim.
Quelling the divine fire left me vulnerable to the fiery darts of the wicked one, as Ephesians 6:16 reminds us: "Above all, take the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one" (NKJV).
The Apostle Paul further instructs us in 2 Timothy 1:6–7: “For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline” (NIV). This mandate, though weighty, is not one we bear alone.
Indeed, we can be of good cheer! God's grace is ever near and ready to rescue His children from the spiritual wasteland of despair. Our duty is to keep the Spirit's flame glowing by stoking fire with our fervent prayers, singing, worship, fellowship with believers, study, and joyful praise.
God Himself is the source of the flame; our prayers, worship, and adoration are the oxygen the Holy Spirit uses to transform lifeless, choked hearts into hearts ablaze with passion and devotion for God.
The Light of God never went out in me—I was always His. When the lights go out, and one’s fire dims, or they smolder in spiritual dryness, we must turn to the Holy Courts where the Spirit of God awaits. He breathes upon the embers of the heart, igniting His flame within and revealing the sacred means to fuel that fire. The Father, in His love, stirs those holy embers into full life. He forgives our quenching of the Spirit, rescues us from darkness and life's temptations, and helps us fan the resulting flame through prayer, devotion, and adoration, bringing us under His wings of divine protection.
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Deborah loves Jesus, being Don's wife, singing old hymns, and nature walks. She is an author, poet, podcaster, and award-winning makeup artist, as well as the founder of the Behold-Her Beauty Podcast and Blog. Her books are "Unexpected Blessings: 40 Days of Discovering God's Best" and "Prodigal Daughter: Poems of Light for the Lost Ones."
