For our God is a consuming fire. (Hebrews 12:29)

Virtually every morning, there is a predictable ritual that happens in our kitchen. Sulojana, the early riser, fills our “cordless” electric kettle with filtered water up to the “Minimum” mark. Once she flips the switch to the “On” position and the red light comes on, she turns into my human alarm clock. “Jeeva, it’s time to get up.”

The advantage of your wife delivering the wake-up call is that it is not as alarming as the mechanical device. The disadvantage? There is no snooze button 🙁

By the time I get to the kitchen, the water has already boiled. The kettle has shut off, thanks to a built-in energy-saving feature. Now, it is my turn for me to get into my routine.

Warm up some milk in the microwave. Measure a teaspoon of special instant coffee from India into each of two coffee mugs. Add sugar to one (Hint: Not mine!). Pour the boiled water up to the half-way mark of the mug. Top it off with the hot milk. Stir with teaspoon. Then mix it well by transferring the stirred coffee back and forth between the empty milk mug and the coffee mug. Wait for a layer of froth to manifest. Let it sit still for a few minutes and cool off a tad. Announce that coffee is ready.

(Sorry to make you jealous, ladies, but she’s got me trained pretty well…old habits are hard to break after 30+ years of daily repetition, amen?)

Fairly safe and harmless ritual, wouldn’t you say? I would heartily concur, except that something happened a week ago Monday that shook me up.

When I got to the kitchen, the water was still boiling. The automatic shut-off mechanism had not kicked in yet. I needed a cup of water to cook the oatmeal porridge that was on the menu that morning. As I reached for the filtered water tap, I felt a stinging sensation on the underside of my right arm about two inches east of the elbow.

I knew instantly that it was from the steam bellowing out of the kettle coming into contact with my skin. I just ignored it and went ahead getting the coffee ready (see routine above), cooking the oatmeal and just carrying on with the chores of the day.

It was only in the evening that I noticed the ugly steam blister filled with liquid something. Frankly, I was shocked that the hardly noticeable sting had turned into this hideous thing. I was too chicken to puncture it, though. I waited until my arm hit the armrest of the car unexpectedly and broke the blister, pulled into a walk-in clinic, got a doctor to do the dirty work and started a new daily routine.

Disinfect wound. Apply antibiotic ointment. Place sterilized gauze on top. Tape it down.

Suffice it to say, 10 days later, it is healing quite well, thank you. But, the entire experience taught me something about the nature of God that we dare not ignore.

You see, the loving heavenly Father who speaks to us in stillness (I Kings 19:12) is also the Almighty God whose voice thunders and breaks the cedars of Lebanon (Psalm 29:5).

Jesus, our elder brother, is not only the little Lamb that Mary had who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29), He is also the fierce and ferocious Lion of the tribe of Judah (Revelation 5:5).

Holy Spirit is our gentle breezy Comforter, but He is also the rushing whirlwind whose origin and destination are unpredictable (John 3:7)

As Mr. Beaver explains to the children when they ask whether Aslan the Lion King is safe: ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king I tell you.”

The verse quoted above reminds us that “Our God is a consuming fire.”

In a bizarre way, I sensed the steam burn on my forearm was a reminder to never underestimate the power of the God who burns.

Your thoughts?