Scripture: Revelation 2:4–5
“Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love. Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works…”
When did we become comfortable with being cold?
There was a time when we did not need to be begged to pray. We looked forward to being alone with God. We could remain in His presence for hours, not because we had a list of urgent needs, but because we loved Him and enjoyed His presence. His Word was not something we hurriedly opened to fulfil a religious obligation. We searched it, believed it, obeyed it and treasured every word.
There was a time when missing our quiet time troubled us. When we fell into sin, we could not just carry on as if nothing had happened. Our hearts were tender, we wanted nothing between us and God. A song could bring us to tears; we could ruminate over a verse throughout the day. The mention of Jesus awakened something deep within us.
But somewhere along the way, something changed. We did not necessarily stop going to church. We still serve, preach, teach, give, lead prayers and speak Christian languages. We may even be busier with the things of God than we were before, but beneath all the activity, the fire is no longer burning as it once did.
Prayer has become shorter, weaker and increasingly convenient. Quiet time is easily postponed; the Bible may be unopened for days, yet we feel no deep concern. Things that once convicted us now appear harmless. Well, we still sing about God, but our hearts no longer yearn for Him. We remember past encounters more vividly than we can describe anything God is doing in us now.
The believers in Ephesus were not idle. Jesus acknowledged their works, labour, patience and discernment. They had remained active and had even endured hardship for His name. Yet He said, “I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.”
This means it is possible to work for God while gradually moving away from Him. It is possible to defend the truth without maintaining tenderness toward the One who is the Truth. It is possible to remain religiously active while the altar of personal devotion is covered with ashes.
Jesus did not say that they had lost their first love; He said they had left it. Something else had been permitted to occupy the place that once belonged to Him.
Maybe it was not one major act of rebellion; perhaps it happened through small, repeated neglect; one postponed prayer after another, one hurried quiet time after another, one compromise after another, one excuse after another. The fire did not suddenly disappear; it was left unattended.
Comfort may have done what adversity could not do. When we had little, we held tightly to God. We prayed about everything; we depended on Him for daily provision, direction and strength. Now that some prayers have been answered and life has become more settled, the God we once desperately sought is sometimes given whatever time remains after everything else. But God did not bless us so that His blessings could replace Him.
The Lord’s words to Ephesus were direct: remember, repent and return to the first works. Remember what it was like when His presence mattered more than convenience. Remember how quickly you obeyed; remember the hunger, the tenderness and the joy of belonging to Him.
This remembrance is not intended to make us nostalgic, it is meant to awaken us. God is not asking us to talk about how we once prayed; He is calling us to pray again. He is not asking us to admire the fire of former days; He is calling us to return to the altar.
We must stop using maturity as an explanation for spiritual coldness. Growing in God should make us know Him more deeply, not desire Him less. We must stop calling prayerlessness “being busy”, compromise “balance”, and the absence of conviction “grace”.
Where is the hunger we once had? Where are the tears we once shed in His presence? Where is the obedience that did not need lengthy negotiation? Where is the prayer that continued until something changed within us? Where is the love that made having God feel like possessing an incomparable treasure?
This is not a call for God to return us to poverty, pain or hardship; it is a call for Him to restore what we carelessly allowed comfort to extinguish.
Prayer
Lord, we do not want the hardship back; we want the hunger back. We do not want the lack back; we want the love back. We do not just want memories of the fire, but let the fire burn in us again. In Jesus’ name, amen.
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