“To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.”
—Revelation 3:15-19

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Laodicean
By Jennifer Kane

I lived in the lukewarm,
neither fire to ignite nor ice to soothe—
just the quiet hum of apathy,
a shallow peace in unshaken waters.

“I have enough,” I told myself,
counting wealth like blessings,
my comfort a shield
against the call of something greater.

But then He spoke—
“You are wretched, blind, poor.
Your riches are dust,
your garments a facade,
your sight clouded by pride.”

I stood exposed,
a beggar clothed in illusion.
His words burned like fire,
yet the warmth stirred something long forgotten.

Still, I lingered in the lukewarm haze,
the cost of zeal too high,
the weight of repentance too sharp.
And so He left me—
silent, distant, gone.

It is, in fact, God’s final punishment
to leave a man alone.

In the emptiness, I felt the truth—
the void was mine to fill,
the silence mine to break.
I cried out,
and mercy flooded in.

The fire came, refining,
burning away the dross of comfort,
the pride of self-sufficiency.
He gave me white garments,
salve for my eyes,
and a heart that burned with His zeal.

Now I am no longer lukewarm—
I am the heat of devotion,
the cool drink of His peace.
Refreshed, renewed, redeemed,
I run the race,
a soul alive in His hands.

~~~~~

Scripture: Revelation 3:14-20

Laodicea was a wealthy and self-reliant city. Its water supply, however, was famously lukewarm—neither hot for healing nor cold for refreshing. This practical reality serves as a convicting metaphor in Jesus’ rebuke to the church of the Laodiceans: they were spiritually lukewarm, neither fully passionate for Him nor completely distant. Their compromised and complacent faith elicited strong words from Jesus, who declared He would “vomit” them out of His mouth (Revelation 3:16).

Lukewarm faith is a dangerous place to be. It often comes with self-sufficiency, where a person or community has “just enough” of Jesus to appear spiritual but lacks the true zeal and dependence that define a life on fire for God. The Laodicean church exemplified this. They were materially rich but spiritually poor, blind, and naked (Revelation 3:17). They did not recognize their desperate need for Christ.

This warning speaks loudly today. Our modern culture often values comfort, compromise, and convenience over conviction and wholehearted surrender. But Jesus desires more than lip service or half-hearted allegiance. He calls us to be either hot, zealous in faith, or cold, where our need for Him is evident and can drive us to repentance. He offers His refining love—gold tested in the fire, white garments to clothe our shame, and salve to open our spiritual eyes (Revelation 3:18).

Take time to examine your spiritual temperature. Are you lukewarm in your faith? Do you find yourself compromising, living a double life, or being indifferent to God’s call? Ask the Holy Spirit to ignite your zeal for Jesus, making your love for Him evident in your actions, prayers, and commitment.

~~~~~

Lord Jesus, forgive me when I have settled for lukewarm faith. Search my heart and expose where I have become complacent or self-sufficient. I desire to be zealous for You, fully dependent on Your grace, and eager to serve with all my might.

Thank You for never leaving me alone. Even when I chose comfort over conviction, You waited for me to turn back to You. When I cried out, Your mercy poured in, refining and restoring me. Your discipline, though painful, is a gift of love—a sign that I am Yours.

Clothe me in Your righteousness, open my eyes to see my true need for You, and fill my heart with zeal. Let Your fire burn away my apathy and pride, leaving only a life that glorifies You. Thank You for walking with me, for calling me back when I stray, and for Your promise to never forsake me.

May my life be a testimony of devotion, a soul alive in Your hands. Amen.

December 19 2024