Anyone who knows me really well knows that fire worried me greatly when I was a child. My fear that our house would burst into flames prompted my parents to purchase a special ladder for me in the event that I had to evacuate my second-storey bedroom. It was a kind gesture by my folks to allay my anxiety and was perhaps also an attempt to lessen the number of middle-of-the-night visits I made to their room out of sheer fear.Perhaps more comical was the angst I experienced at the thought of burning at the stake. In school, I read about different men who had died in such a fashion, and terror gripped my heart that anyone ever had to go through that. My friends laugh about this quirky fear from my childhood (as do I), but it was no laughing matter to me when I was young.
It just so happens that I have been living in a town threatened by flames over the past week. Although I have long outgrown my irrational fear of fire, I didn't sleep so well one night this week, thinking about the flames licking down the mountain and wondering if the brave firefighters would be able to halt the affront. This week has been horrendous for many people, and yet, as in any tragedy, it has also provided an opportunity for the community to pull together and unite. I have been immune from the property damage, but my heart breaks for those who have lost homes, memories, and more. The only thing that gives me hope when I think on a situation like this is Christ.
A few weeks ago, a pastor at Woodmen Valley Chapel referenced a story about a man and his family caught in a prairie fire. I don't know if the story is fiction or not, but the analogy is profound. The family was desperately trying to outrun a raging prairie fire, but the father knew they couldn't do it. The flames were too fast. As a last resort, he stopped to light the brush in front of him on fire. Counterintuitive though it may seem, it was actually brilliant because when the brush in front had burned to nothing, the family stood on the charred ground. The flames coming from behind then skirted them because they were standing where the fire had already been.
My pastor said that this is a picture of Christ, who took our punishment for sin and took the "fire" for us. Therefore, if we trust in Him, we can stand where the fire has already been and be unscathed by the most devestating of flames. Before any of this fire tragedy began in our area, that phrase was ringing through my head and I had already planned to somehow paint that phrase or otherwise display it in my room. It has become even more significant with the face of intense fire only miles away.
Fire is frightening, both literally and figuratively, but Christ is bigger than both forms. I will continue to pray for our community in the aftermath of this storm. The best news for any of us, no matter what the circumstance, is that Christ will walk with us through the fire, any kind of fire, if we but turn to Him.
Isaiah 43:2 -- "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze."
Picture: http://www.wellsphere.com/healthy-cooking-article/faith-filled-friday/1444132
