Fire vs Water

This fire inside of me longs to burn for Him.
It's burning, it's hot.
But there's a little faucet that found its way.
It found a cozy spot right above my fire.
It's dripping, dripping, dripping lies; dripping and quenching my fire, my warmth, my life.
It is suffocating the flames.
It is dripping!
These tiny drops are not enough to douse my fire, but enough to make it flicker and sizzle.
It has an opposite effect.  Usually water satisfies, but this is lying water, this is not desirable water.  It burns like fire, it tears like fangs, and it scabs, then it scars.
The scars are reminders of my past and who I was.  Reminders of the desperation and the discouragement.
I see my scars and it comes back: the darkness called discouragement.  The wounds are reopened, reborn (or died).
Why can't His scars be enough?
His scars cover mine, the fire consumes the damaged flesh and renews, restores, and rebirths.
The old scars are a reminder from the enemy of my past; the new scars remind the enemy of his future.
Praise be to my God, praise be to Him.