I must begin this post by saying it is dedicated to my dear friend with whom I’ve bonded over/through used books; you know who you are:). You are so very appreciated–and you inspired me to write today (yesterday actually but, as usual, I’m running behind). This friend and I have talked more than once about how confusing the circumstances of our lives can make us feel sometimes and how there often appears to be no obvious purpose/method to the madness all around us. Well, through two recent happenings, a field trip with my little girl and a late-night talk with my “Godmother” (T.K. from Hear I AM), I’ve received two concrete images that have helped me begin to process my thinking in this area.
The first image came to me in the “matter” room at the UNC Planetarium (the field trip). During a presentation a scientist there was doing for my daughter’s class, various elements were set on fire right in front of us all; and each element turned into a different color as it burned. In fact, by the time we made it to the end of the fireproof table, we had seen a rainbow of elements come to life right in front of us; and each one was spectacular. And what occurred to me was how much more appealing visually each element became as it burned. The chemist even pointed out to the students that the elements become more “energetic” in the fire than they ever were at any other time (the theory of combustion).
That immediately made me think of the book of Daniel in the Bible and of the account of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These three men of God, who refused to bow down to any God other than the great Jehovah, were actually thrown into a fire; and they weren’t even burned. How is this possible you might ask? Well, we’re told they had a companion in that fire, someone who was seen by the very king who had sentenced them to die in the furnace and had later looked in for a status check. We’re also told that this king who had condemned them immediately commanded that the loyal trio, the servants of the “Most High God,” be removed; and when they were, there was not even a hint of smoke on them.
In my sick season memoir, I describe a note that my “Godmother” wrote to me and gave me along with some of her favorite dangly earrings. She said that her jewels were to be worn by one who had been through the fire and had emerged without even the smell of smoke. Her note still brings a smile to my face. I don’t know that I, with the threat of a literal blazing fire right in front of me, would have had the courage to stand my ground for God like those three men did in the book of Daniel, but I do know that I too have had, and have even felt at certain times, a steady companion in the “fires” of life for as long as I can remember. And it’s been my God.
And I believe too that we are able to see the most commonplace things (like those elements before ignition) transformed into beautiful and extraordinary hues of color–hues of color brought about by the very storms that threaten to wipe us out down here. Just think back to the rainbow Old Testament Noah saw after that most destructive flood. Beauty from ashes really has been the pattern ever since that sneaky snake back in Genesis had his way with humanity. Yes, fire can indeed be catastrophic but it can also be incredibly purifying; Holy Scripture uses that image too. Fire can do many things as well that make our bodies really happy; it can keep us warm, make us feel romantic, toast marshmallows, put lovely scents into the air all around us, lighten the darkness when there’s an outage. Fire is not all bad.
The second image I’ve been pondering is one that popped into the mind of my “Godmother” when I told her what the chemist at UNC said about the energy level in a fire being so remarkable. She and I were having yet another conversation about why life down here has to be so darn hard so often; and I was asking her to pray that life might become a little easier and steadier for me. And that’s when she said something like along the lines of, “Well, if you flat line, you’re dead.”
In other words, just like fire is not always a bad thing, a straight and “steady” line is not always a good thing either. Yep, proverbial fires and erratic lines are both definite signs of “real” life (according to my “Godmother”/quite sage friend). There is a method to the madness of this world, and there is a purpose (many purposes I do think) for each of us; and there is a God who cares for us and loves us, immeasurably so, when no one else down here seems to at all. This we really must dare to believe.
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