“Let’s get off this volcano! She doesn’t want us here!” said our guide.
I hadn’t worried about the golf-ball-sized rocks that came skudding down the cone, hiccupped from the top of the cone. We had hiked up Pacaya Volcano, one of the few active spewers among the 36 volcanoes in Guatemala. We could feel the warmth of months-old lava flow underneath our feet, its crust just hardened into rock. We could peer in the cracks at the welding red glow of lava. This was all part of the attraction of Pacaya.
But our guide didn’t see the falling projectiles as uneventful. We hurried down the red rock, over the black sand path, and then through the jungle path, to safety. Months earlier, a news crew, wanting to capture gripping footage, died.
Christians are volcanoes. Explosive power lies within. Some are dormant. They need to be awakened by faith. Others are rumbling, energized by faith, ready to explode with some miracle (of healing, finances, salvation, deliverance, whatever). Some are waking up (in prayer), others are dying down (they don’t pray anymore).
Some people underestimate the power within a volcano. The devil doesn’t. That’s why he works overtime to make us dormant.