Living Through the Fire

I don’t recall any of the events I’m about to share, but here are things I know. I lived through a house fire. I was roughly two years old when our family home caught fire. I was too young to remember any of the details. I don’t recall smelling the smoke throughout the day but not knowing where it was coming from. I don’t remember seeing the house in flames as my parents tried to save us as well as some of the household items. I don’t remember my six year old brother getting off the school bus to see his home going up in flames. I don’t know if my parents even had a phone in the house at the time. I have no recollection of any part of that day. I was way too young. But I know it happened, because my parents talked about it on occasion. But rarely. They never went into detail of the horrors that day. All I remember them saying was that there was a fire in the attic flue that they weren’t aware of until it was much too late.

The only things I remember that were saved, along with us four kids, was a cushion off the couch and my mother’s wedding dress. I don’t know if they were able to save any other furniture or clothes. I don’t know if they had to rely on family and friends to refill our new home with everything a home needs, but I’m sure they did. I know my birth certificate didn’t survive the fire. They did save some pictures, but I don’t remember what else from my early days of childhood survived.

When my dad built the house that we moved into later and my parents lived in for the next fifty years, I was subconsciously afraid that our house would burn down. When we moved into the new house, I was still very young. It was a ranch style house with a rough finished basement where we lived for seven years before the upstairs was completed. Every night when I went to bed as a child, I would pray that our house wouldn’t burn down in the middle of the night. My two sisters and I shared a bedroom that was next to the “furnace” room. It was a coal furnace, and in my child’s mind it was exactly like the furnace that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were thrown into. But the door of our furnace was a small square that would be impossible to walk into. But I could imagine the three men walking around in our furnace with the fourth person who joined them. Being so young and not remembering the fire, I was so afraid that the furnace would explode at night on the other side of my bedroom wall. I was afraid we would be caught in the fire and be unable to escape. Thankfully, that never happened.

As I see the horrific photos and videos of the fires of LA, I am appalled that such a travesty is happening. At this point, it is unknown if it was intentional or not. One can only hope and pray that it wasn’t. But I’ve read that due to mismanagement of the forests and funding, it was only a matter of time until a fire of epic proportions flattened the city, or at least portions of it. I think of the families and lives that have been disrupted. Some will never return to what was once normal for a very long time. These fires are as disturbing as the hurricane that disrupted and displaced so many lives in North Carolina and nearby states a few months ago.

We wonder and ask if these horrible events could have been prevented. We may never know.


Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Isaiah 43:1-3


As I sit in my comfortable home, I think of the events of my week. Oh. I’ve had the heating man out to tell me why the furnace wasn’t heating our house properly. It was a very minor fix. And then the next day, the roofing guy was here to tell me why we had a leaky roof. This too seems to require a minor repair. All in a day’s work, some might say. I don’t have to worry about where I’ll sleep tonight or if I have a home to go to at the end of the day. I have insurance on my home if a natural disaster would occur. I have a home warranty that will help with repairs. I have a deed that says I own my home. I feel secure at the moment, but we all know that secure moments are fleeting. We don’t know when the winds of change will blow and remove all the security we once felt.

My parents didn’t own the home that burned.  They were renting it.  I don’t know if they had insurance or if insurance was even available.  But I do know that they rebuilt their lives. They didn’t let the tragic loss mar their lives forever. Sure. It was a monumental loss.  Losing your home and earthly possessions is beyond tragic.  It’s devastating.  They didn’t lose their faith in God or in humanity.  They just rebuilt and trusted that God would provide.  And He did.  For some, such a tragedy would test their faith, but my parents’ response to their loss was a testimony to their faith.  Oh.  I’m sure they were shaken to the core, but their faith wasn’t shaken.  At the time, they had four young children entrusted to their care, and they didn’t shirk their duty. Their faith remained strong, and they picked themselves up out of the ashes and rebuilt their lives.

Oh. The fires of LA are much larger and much more devastating than one small house fire. Any house fire and loss of property is tragic, but entire communities of families and businesses have been lost. Most lives have been saved, but it will take years to rebuild. Some may choose to never return. Many had lost their homeowners insurance just months earlier. What will they do? Only time will tell.

When we walk through the fires, we will be tested. Our faith in God can be the testament to others that we never walk alone when we walk through the fire or the flood. God is our ever present help in time of trouble, and he will not leave us. We may lose all earthly possessions, but God is with us even in the deepest, darkest trials of life. He never changes. He knows our names and he loves us with an everlasting love, regardless of our circumstances. Let’s hold tightly to that promise in the days ahead.

I will praise the Lord at all times. I will constantly speak his praises. I will boast only in the Lord ; let all who are helpless take heart. Come, let us tell of the Lord ’s greatness; let us exalt his name together. I prayed to the Lord , and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. In my desperation I prayed, and the Lord listened; he saved me from all my troubles. For the angel of the Lord is a guard; he surrounds and defends all who fear him. Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him! Psalms 34:1-8

Empty House

We lived in an empty house for a few days last week. I had never done that before, as most people likely haven’t either. The house was bare of furniture. There were boxes packed full of treasured items. And necessities were scattered throughout the house. But there was no soft furniture. No bed. No couch. No chairs. All of it was loaded and shipped to our new home two states away. We slept on an air mattress for a few days. Our dog even roamed the house looking for a soft spot. One day she ventured downstairs to see if she could find a cushy spot to rest. But no. There were none to be found. Even my massage therapist asked me if I had been sitting on a hard surface. You bet I have.

Everything echoes in an empty house. Voices. Footsteps. Every sound echoes.

We let go of some furniture to new owners, because we downsized and not everything could make the trip. One friend told me that the pieces of our furniture in her home made her place feel more like home. Her humble abode felt better with a few gently used pieces from an old friend. That made my heart sing.

Oh. Now that some of my furniture and belongings have arrived at our new house, I’m unpacking boxes and arranging and rearranging furniture.

One of my final tasks before moving was cleaning out not one, but two fridges that hadn’t been cleaned in an obviously long time. Built up spills had hardened. Crusty spots were hidden behind drawers that hadn’t been removed for cleaning. Something green, possibly dried lettuce or kale, was lying under a shelf. Crumbs that had dropped from unknown food were found living safely in the unseen crevices and corners.


For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come. Hebrews 13:14


An empty house is not a home. It’s when the chosen furniture, artwork and cherished family heirlooms are put in place that the house becomes a home. As personal belongings are unboxed and placed in their new home, we see the love and feel of our last home in a new way. Sure. We’ll continue to buy new items over time and discard unneeded items, but we’ll work to fill the home with possessions that warm our hearts and tell our story. We’ll paint walls and hang curtains. We’ll cozy up the house with layers of texture to make it a comfortable resting place. We don’t want to live in a sterile environment. We want our home to reflect the nature of our love for each other and for God. When guests arrive at our new home, we want them to feel welcomed and loved. It doesn’t matter if the furniture matches or is new or is professionally arranged. What matters is that it feels like home.

The empty house gave me pause when I thought about living a Christian life. We repent and confess our sins in order to become children of God, but we can still live empty lives. If we don’t fill our newfound faith with solid biblical teaching and prayer and fellowship with other believers, we’re an empty version of a Christian. We will stagnate and not show maturity. How long will it be before we walk away from our newfound faith if our faith doesn’t have any substance?

Sure. A house without furniture is still a house. But it isn’t a home. It isn’t warm and inviting. It may be appealing and full of potential, but who would willing choose to stay for any length of time? No one.

A soul without Christ is still a soul, but it’s still searching for fulfillment. The searching soul won’t be satisfied until it finds the source of life. When the soul connects with its Creator, it has found its way home. But continual growth and development of the relationship with Christ is essential for a full Christian life. We can’t just visit with him occasionally and think we have a true relationship with him. We must become closer to him than we are to anyone or anything else in our lives. It’s only then that we truly understand that this world is not our final home. We are meant for our eternal dwelling with Christ.

This world we live in offers empty promises and unfulfilled expectations. It doesn’t feel like home. At least, not a home where we want to live forever. We aren’t content here. Oh sure. We may be happy and feel content for a season of life, but ultimately we’ll feel less fulfilled as time goes on. As we draw nearer to our final days, we begin to long for our final resting place. Our bodies and minds are less reliable, and we know that we will soon move on. We can know with confidence that our final home will be with Christ when we repent and confess our sins and live our lives according to God’s will.

Moving On

Well. We’ve done it. We packed up and moved across two state lines. It felt like a hasty decision, but we have also felt the hand of God guiding the entire process. To say it all went smoothly is an understatement. We found a new house quickly and sold a house quickly. And now the settling in and unpacking of many, many boxes begins. Oh. If anyone had told me at the beginning of the year that we would be moving out of a home we loved and journeying over three hundred miles to begin anew, I would have laughed. But the joke is on me. And here I sit in a new house near family members I haven’t lived near for over forty years. It feels good. And it feels right.

I know that soon the empty boxes will outnumber the full ones, but right now the task of emptying them seems daunting. The first priority is to repair any plumbing issues in the house. Homes have a way of aging, just as people do. And they need regular upkeep and maintenance to run smoothly and efficiently. Oh. We know there will be more repairs down the road. The inspection showed some minor issues that need tackled, so we’ve started our priority list.

Moving on from a beloved home is an adjustment. We loved our home and hadn’t really planned to leave it, but we found over the past year that our life priorities were shifting. We decided to test the waters of relocating, and now we’ve done it. The move has happened. By the end of the week, we’ll close on that beloved home and continue settling into this a-frame we now call home.

After this move and downsizing, I’ve decided that I have no desire to move again. We’ll see if I can hold to that. I sure hope so.

The thing about this change that warms my heart is that the suggestion to move two states away came from my dear husband. He said it was time to take me back to my home state after living away from my family for so many years. I didn’t know that my heart was leading me back to this state where I was born, but the more I thought about it the more excited I became. This man of mine is a gem.

One of the most heartwarming parts of the move thus far was having my family members come to help us unload all the furniture and boxes. Being closer to them is a dream come true. But honestly, I didn’t even know it was a dream until my husband suggested it. And then I realized here is where we belong.


Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5


Now we begin the task of finding our way in our new life and home. New church. New doctors. New grocery store. New everything. It’s a much smaller town that we’re now in. A cornfield is our backyard. We moved from a city where we regularly saw wildlife along with freeway traffic. Now we’ll slow our pace and forget the headaches of stop and go traffic.

We’ve left longtime friends and church family, but we will always keep them in our hearts. And we’ll find new friends. A new church family. We’ll meet new neighbors. Starting over is daunting, but the excitement of the newness is within. I hope and pray it is an easy transition. We don’t know the road ahead, so we pray for God’s grace and guidance.

Sure. There have been sleepless night with all the planning and hoping and anticipation, so hopefully now peaceful sleep will find me again. But during this entire process, the peace of God has been a settling factor in progressing toward this change. The anxiousness has revolved around selling a house and packing up. Making sure all the moving parts move at the right time and speed. And hoping that nothing gets lost in the transition.

I’m looking forward to growing old(er) in this new phase of life. There will be adjustments, but change doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s just a fact of life, really. Most of us try to avoid change, but it’s good to embrace a good change every now and then. We are resilient people. But most of all, God is good and he’ll provide for every step of the way. I trust his guiding hand, and I know that he will carry us forward as we adjust to our new surroundings.

Thinking of Home

I think of home this time of year.  The home where I grew up.  The home of my childhood.  Oh.  It’s no longer my home.  I’m rarely in the area, but when I drive by it even looks different.  New owners.  New look.  New traditions.  New memories.  It’s no longer home for me.

But I like to remember when it was.

I remember mornings when our entire family would sit around the breakfast table.  Mother would make homemade hot chocolate and toast for breakfast.  On the rare occasion, we would have donuts from the bakery. Mother would buy glazed donuts.  There were no fancy donuts back then. Glazed are still my favorite.

I remember working in the garden in the summertime.  We would plant long rows of green beans.  Tomatoes.  Corn.  Cucumbers.  Lettuce.  Peppers. It was hard work, but it was worth it.  I say that now.  Back then, I would have given anything to get out of doing all that work.


Honor your father and mother. Then you will live a long, full life in the land the Lord your God is giving you. Exodus 20:12


I remember the summer evenings.  We would sit outside with the radio in the window listening to the St. Louis Cardinals baseball game.  We kids would play softball.  Until the year that our parents planted sweet gum trees in our yard turned softball field.  Now forty some years later, those trees are full grown.  I wonder if they’re still there.

Oh.  I remember the year my dad planted a row of pear trees.  He loved pears and was hoping for a bumper crop.  When the trees eventually produced fruit, someone would always steal them.  But oh.  He loved his pears.

Saturday mornings were spent cleaning the house and baking desserts for Sunday.  That was the girls’ chores.  The boys were out working with the pigs.  Sunday was our day of rest.  Our Sabbath.  Oh.  The boys still fed the pigs.  But we went to church.  Sunday afternoon was nap time for the family.  Odd sounding these days.  But what I wouldn’t give for another Sunday nap. Then back to church for another service.

We always got to choose what kind of birthday cake we wanted. There were no store bought cakes for our family.  My mom made her cakes from scratch.  Carrot cake. Red velvet.  Italian cream.  German chocolate.  Chocolate sheet cake.  Her cakes were out of this world.  What I wouldn’t give for one of them for my birthday this year.  Summer birthdays didn’t require a birthday cake.  Oh.  There was a choice.  My dad and brother always asked for a watermelon instead.  Who knew that birthday candles fit nicely on a watermelon.

The living room was a sacred place come nighttime.  Daddy would call us into the living room, so we could have family devotions.  He would read a Bible story and then we would pray together.  Every night before bed.  I love that memory.

These scenes from my childhood are imprinted on my heart and mind.  For that I am thankful.