The Fire Pit

The other night my husband and I sat by the fire pit to relax and enjoy nature. As he fed the fire, I couldn’t help but notice the way things burned.

The leaves — they burned the fastest. The moment he placed them in the pit, they caught fire and shriveled within seconds.

The tiny twigs didn’t burn as fast as the leaves, but when they did catch, they quickly turned black and dripped down into the ashes like dark water.

And the logs… they burned the slowest. But they still burned. Still turned black. Still eventually fell into the ashes with the rest.

They all looked as if they were suffering.

And the ashes — mostly gray and black — still had that red glow shining through. A reminder that the fire was still alive. Still hot. Still capable of damage.

And I couldn’t help but think about Hell.

The leaves, twigs, and logs eventually stopped burning. The fire pit goes out. The suffering ends.

But Hell… There is no extinguishing. No relief. No end. And no light — because light is the presence of God.

Complete darkness. Never-ending burning. Never-ending separation. Forever.

And here’s the sobering truth: every one of us deserves that fire. But God.

Because of Jesus, we don’t have to burn. Because of the cross, the fire meant for us was placed on Him. Because of His resurrection, we are offered life instead of ashes.

The fire pit will one day grow cold. But eternity will not.

The question is not whether eternity exists. The question is — where will we spend it?