Wildfires...

The shadows were longer than they were just days before, hinting that summer was breathing her last long sighs, she had spent herself on drought this year. We rested on our back porch in the silence of late afternoon. The weeks, months, years clipping through our minds and spirits like an old home movie. Watching our kids sway on the swing hanging from one of the trees in the yard, we were surprised that we could be outside and not sweat through our clothes in the month of August. So much had changed.

The trees in this old yard tower over us like protective elders over children at a family reunion. Making sure we have plenty of shade to enjoy the soft song playing in stereo as breezes blow up the ridge through their canopies, these trees offer healing to anyone willing to slow down enough to appreciate them. Settling back into the camp chairs that we keep set up near the house we let the quiet sit with us like an old friend. We had learned not to anxiously fill every moment of everyday with activity or conversation. Realizing that there are times when words are more like grating fingernails down the chalkboard than they are valuable, we sipped our tea in silence. Everything feels different even from a year ago.

I looked at the bits of tea leaves in the bottom of my cup when he began to share the details of the latest phone call. The calls and text and Voxers come weekly from everywhere, even other continents. The disenfranchised finding themselves outside the walls of the church, reaching out to share their hearts. Even though we often don't know what to say, we have learned that listening, being present, is a balm all in itself. Painful stories of volatile meetings with church leaders, being shamed into more church work, lies told about their leaving in order to protect the institution, ones who have given their lives for a movement and just cannot support the systemic neglect and abuse anymore - leaving and knowing people they love who will not be able to relate to them anymore - not outside the system...it baffles the mind really. Not that people hurt each other, find their actions have caused pain or that the church isn't perfect; what's baffling is that these things are done in the name of Christ and advancing the Kingdom by a people who are to be known for their love and care of each other. The hurt are viewed as "wounded" and "unforgiving", not viable for the hard work of building anymore so they are left to figure out how to move forward on their own. It's no wonder so many Jesus followers are leaving the building. 

Summer tossed the dried, brittle grounds of Appalachia to Autumn this year. Handing off the sealed heavens to create the warmest, driest fall on record. "Of course." we laugh - maybe we'd brought a bit of our heritage land here to these hills. We'd just endured a seven year drought in our homeland - we know how to do drought. The drought here started the day after Christmas last year has left these ancient mountains perfect tender for wildfires. Where we live sits low between high ridges, like the shape of a bowl pressed down into wet sand. As the fires raced up the mountains it spilled it's liquid smoke into this bowl of a town. Red sunrises, coughing lungs, burning eyes and everyone staying inside as much as they could. Most of us never saw the fires, but we definitely saw the effects of them. It's been almost two weeks of navigating bits of burned trees and leaves so small they float through the air into your lungs. But this morning the skies are back to their brilliant blue tones, the air is crisp and the leaves of the trees look like the deep colored stitching on the soft deerskin dress of a Cherokee princess that walked this land centuries ago. Appalachia remains captivating even though her ground is dried and cracking and thousands of acres of her are burned black. She is still magnificent. 

We used to think that people like us didn't know how to submit to authority - that we had, as one pastor said, "A wandering spirit." that needed dealing with and that we weren't willing to die to get the ball moved forward in a movement. All may be true, but these days we see that there are some non-negotiable values we hold very dear among all of our shadows. The darker parts of who we are are as valuable as the lighter ones though. Highlighting them even. Seeing only the light in who we are leaves us with a misty image of ourselves - something like a ghostly apparition. Allowing the shadows of our souls to add depth and texture to who we are is a good thing to behold. It took wildfires of the Spirit to burn away so much for us to be able to see who we really are as a 3D image of our Creator. but see them we do now. At great cost.

Turtletown Falls near the farm...

Winter here in this region is supposed to be cold with a lot of snow this year, according to the shape of the seeds in the fruit of the persimmon trees. We pray for rain everyday and bought our first sled last week in hopes of sliding down the hills at the farm and our front yard too. Believe it or not, the mountains of Appalachia are tropical. The amount of rain they receive allows plants to grow here that only grow in tropical regions. It is a mixture of deciduous and coniferous forest that draws folks from all around to see the splendor. When the days shorten and the chemical reaction triggers a response in the trees to very really afford the clapping of their vibrant fall hands to worship God, we catch our breath at ever bend in the road. The rocks even seem to cry out His goodness.

While we haven't seen first-hand all of the raging fires inside the church building, the smoke is pouring out of the evangelical institution - through the doors and windows into the Bride. Enough so that media is making comment on it these days. Causing her eyes to burn, making visibility hard as lungs fill up with burning air the Bride is aware that something devastating is happening in the places that she found shelter in for many decades. Like firefighters, pastors and staff exhaust themselves trying to put out the "flames" - afraid it will burn down the bricks and mortar they worked so hard to build - and we are not only speaking of the physical address of it all. As the fires rage many leaders enable the managers of fear, power, control to tell their flock that leaving is not ok - that staying inside the building, albeit burning, is imperative. 

Mid December is about the time that the rains start to come again to this land. In the mountains the weather changes from valley to valley. Meteorologist in this area offer a crap shoot at best of weather predictions because every square mile may provide a different forecast. While most of this region in getting little if any rain, a cove or a valley receives enough to keep everything as it should be - thriving and alive to the given season. But here in our town it's dry, very dry. Even on the farm an hour and a half east from here there are burn bans. Next week rain is in the forecast and we pray - pray for the rain that will bring the moisture needed to protect the forest, the wildlife, the homes and the people. The people. They are the first to be rescued from a fire. The firefighters work hard to save everything else, but the people - they are the primary concern.

"I feel like I can't breathe. Like all I can do is sit and weep. But I'm so angry." we sit and listen and cry too. Were these emotions used to be viewed as negative, now remind each other that the tears and anger and the pain mean something is alive - they are alive. They survived - we all did. Some with minor smoke inhalation, others with third degree burns; but they are alive enough to have emotion and that is a good sign. A very good sign. When things burn down you're left with what remains and something always remains. When all has burned away from the structure of your spiritual walk there are stones that do not burn, the first being the Chief Cornerstone. You know that you will rebuild one day, but you'll build differently - maybe smaller, probably less "stuff" kept inside and you may rebuild in a place of beauty for your soul. And certainly with a vast array of smoke detectors.:) 

Milky Way in Appalachia

Sometimes it takes losing what you held so dear to afford the freedom to live the way the Holy Spirit has been inviting you to live. Whether fear of leaving loved ones or fear of messing up - you couldn't follow the ancient trail forged by our father, Abraham, because you can't carry a building with you on your back.You have to travel light to this new land He speaks to your heart about as you look up at the stars. The same stars that Sarah saw her husband staring at in the night as she left everything she knew. 

Here's the truth, love - He was out here before He was ever in there. Promise. Unlike us, He's everywhere. He walked the mountains, he tended the trees and the animals and ~ He's here...right here with you. With us. With everyone. He invited Abraham's people up the mountain to meet with Him, but they requested another way, "Send Moses." Don't do that - don't request another way...meet with Him. There may be discomfort, but He will transform you. Promise

Maybe you're one of the ones safe in the little cove or valley, untouched by the fires...pray for your brothers and sisters and find ways to help. If you smell smoke, know there's a fire somewhere. Meanwhile, here are some images to encourage those who have watched all they held dear burn to the ground. We love you deeply ~ all is never lost with Him.