Finally. It rained.
After passing through most of the summer with clear skies, apocalypse finally arrived. Not one, but two giant fires erupted. In close proximity to my neighborhood. One to the south. One to the north. The skies filled with smoke and we could not breathe. People fled their homes, some never to see those home again.
But today, it rains.
Rain helps, but the fires still grow.
Still more people evacuated.
Yesterday at church, Pastor Rod voiced what so many of us think. When the fire gets too close, we pray that it will go a different direction and spare our house. But then, the neighbor’s house is in the fire path. Guilt. How do we deal with that?
Where to Turn
If you are looking for a temporal answer, I don’t believe there is one.
Just prayer. The eternal answer.
At this point, I am grateful for what I have. I grieve for those who have lost. Yet I am glad because I see a spirit of resurrection when people return to the firepits that were their homes. How they encourage one another. How they pledge to help each other rebuild. And how they are becoming true communities instead of just waving neighbors.
God always holds us. Even when our grip slips.
It comes down to trusting Him, even through the empty smoke.
There really is nowhere else to go.