Today, I'm sharing this poem by the old master, George MacDonald. I found it on Ali's blog (which sometimes seems like a collection of good things curated especially for me - thanks Ali). This is a beautiful picture of the Holy Spirit moving in a cold heart - God's grace and giving is limitless. The imagery of spluttering smoke and lightning has stayed with me.
Lord, I have laid my heart upon thy altar But cannot get the wood to burn; It hardly flares ere it begins to falter And to the dark return.
Old sap, or night-fallen dew, makes damp the fuel; In vain my breath would flame provoke; Yet see—at every poor attempt's renewal To thee ascends the smoke!
'Tis all I have—smoke, failure, foiled endeavour, Coldness and doubt and palsied lack: Such as I have I send thee!—perfect Giver, Send thou thy lightning back.