The Earth orbits the Sun and the seasons change. The cycles of the world come and go, as do cycles of loss, grief and recovery.
The summer season is again upon us and with its hot, dry weather and the possibility of wildfires. Last year’s fire season was one of the worst in a long time in the McKenzie Valley, destroying many homes and businesses. I remember those days very clearly, even though our home wasn’t in danger, some of my coworkers did have homes in areas of evacuation that crept closer and closer as the days went on. Finally, two of my coworkers had to stop work and get ready to move as their area was elevated to “Be Ready” status, meaning they could be told to leave their homes and belongings at any moment. We wished them well and prayed that they would be okay.
I later learned that one of the casualties of the fire was a resort in Blue River where I had spent many writing retreats over the years. In fact, most of the town of Blue River had burned, leaving burnt out cars and charred chimneys standing alone.
In the midst of this year of destruction, I received a phone call. My son had died. Alex was not my biological son, but I dated his mother for several years and he had started calling me dad and so I called him son and, so in my heart he was my son. And now he is gone. We had not spoken to each other for a long time as we had drifted apart, but now there was no hope of reconciliation on this side of Heaven. I pray that I will meet him there someday and we will have our chance to make broken things right.
As the fires burned through our forests, they also burned through my life, my heart and my mind. I, too, am left with charred remains inside my soul, some with lonely, solitary chimneys left standing to remind me of the structures that once stood there.
When the Holiday Farm Fire was finally contained and the area deemed safe, my wife and I went up the McKenzie both to escape our confines during lockdown and to see the remains of the resort. Some of the buildings were gone, but others still stood in the capricious way that good things can also happen in this world. People were working to tear down the wreckage and build anew. Many trees still stood and were still green, and the river still flowed nearby. These were signs that all was not lost and of hope for the future.
Now that the fires of that season have ended, I, too, feel hope and love building in my heart. I feel the support of my wife and family and friends and the love of the Lord to repair that which was lost to me and I hope resides in a better world to come. Wildfires can be healing as well as destructive as they clear out the dead undergrowth and give the trees room to grow and be healthier.
I pray that the fires that have burned through my soul will also be able to help me heal and grow in spite of the pain and destruction that it feels like this past year has wrought. I pray that you also can feel the healing and growth for yourselves in the coming new season.
Psalm 107:1
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever. 2 Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,3 those he gathered from the lands, from east and west, from north and south. 4 Some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way to a city where they could settle. 5 They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives ebbed away. 6 Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.
About the Author
Mark lives in Oregon with his lovely wife, Darla and enjoys reading, writing, playing games and working to make the world a better place. He currently serves CitySalt church as a sound engineer and on the church council.
