Last Wednesday dawned like any other day. Well technically it didn’t, because the day before, Mother got a call that her knee replacement surgery was bumped up 2 days, so she and Em were sailing for the local hospital to be the first surgery of the day.

But other than that things were normal. Ben was trucking and he mentioned that loading grain in the brisk breeze wasn’t much fun, so I made the executive decision to not hang out laundry after all.

Then the current started blinking on and off and I watched a 30 foot wave of leaves and chicken litter sail past the kitchen window. Strange.

The house shook with the gusts of wind and I watched the bird feeder blowing horizontally until I finally braved the elements and brought them inside, lest they escape the hook they were hanging on and became a flying missile straight into the innocent pickup sitting near by.

And then Julia messaged me: “Hey they say there’s a fire on Peake Mtn Rd, I’m not home. Do you know anything?”

Well that’s not cool, but I assured her that if there was anything to know, Em would be up to speed with her fire and rescue info.

A bit later, Julia messaged again “I came home. It’s really close. I’m petrified”

Then Father threw more info on the situation: “Everybody’s calling me wondering if we need help to move out. Sherman and I are about an hour out. But we’re coming as fast as we can.”

So I fastened down everything that hadn’t already blown away on our farm and went too.

The smoke was billowing through Eden Valley engulfing everything, making it impossible to see what was what.

I joined the convoy sailing back Paradise Lane, unsure what we were going to find.

There were already men there, hooking up water hoses, patrolling the stall barns, watching carefully the ash-filled smoke that was falling everywhere.

And Julia standing in the back yard with Gideon in her arms in a state of shock.

I know everything makes me feel teary at this stage, but the fact that with minutes there were atleast 20 men (with so many more on standby) there ready to spring into action if the situation went south, was incredible.

The sheriff rolled in and out of the lane updating everyone on the situation and shortly after he informed us that it was within a 100 yards, the wind calmed a little and shifted. Thank you Jesus.

Gideon and I stayed in the house mostly, pacing from window to window trying to figure out what was happening.

A fire truck arrived much to Gideons amazement and a brush truck. (Reports filtered in that because of the excessive amount of sudden wildfires, there weren’t many units available)

And we watched and waited.

And prayed and prayed and prayed.

The fire line became visible from the house, but still moved slowly. Thank you Jesus.

Eventually duty called me elsewhere and I left the window watching to someone else. But the patrol continued for hours. Bless the firefighters and the volunteers who relentlessly protected the homes on Paradise Mountain.

As I watched Julia trying to think through the reality of what was irreplaceable in her house if something changed horribly and we had to flee, I kept thinking of the hymn “Til the Storm passes By” I took the liberty to change a few words.

In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face

While the storms howl above me, and there’s no hiding place

‘Mid the crash of [this windstorm], precious Lord, hear my cry

Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by

‘Til the storm passes over, ’til the [wind] sounds no more

‘Til the [smoke] clouds roll forever from the sky

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand

Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by

Many times Satan whispered, “There is no need to try

For there’s no end of sorrow, there’s no hope by and by”

But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I’ll rise

Where the storms never darken the skies

‘Til the storm passes over, ’til the [wind] sounds no more

‘Til the [smoke] clouds roll forever from the sky

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand

Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by

The neighbors cows amazed me- calmly munching on grass, seemingly not aware of the surrounding danger.

Smoky sunset

📸: Sherman on the 11 pm patrol

3.20

3.21

Yesterday I drove back in Paradise Lane, slower this time. There’s burnt forest the entire way. It runs through the neighborhoods flowerbed the entire way to the lane, but the houses stand unharmed. The trees aren’t any worse for the wear, but the undergrowth took a beating- that’s not a bad thing. There’s still a down tree or two that’s smoking. But it’s calm now.

I’m so thankful to God above for keeping us safe in the Hollow of His Hand. There are others who are dealing with harsher realities after the smoke clears, but I pray that they feel the reassurance of resting in the Father’s Hand in their story too.

“But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I’ll rise, where the Storms never darken the skies.”

Kendra

Bonus Pic:

And how’s Mother’s recovery? There’s no way through this without pain. Her incision caused some drama when it started bleeding persistently, but thankfully that seems to be calming down. Em has been faithfully caring for her even while eating her heart out to be helping with the excitement on the mountain. She was on breakfast duty for several mornings over the fire and guess who couldn’t just sit in the living room and watch. Here’s Mother, fresh out of surgery helping put together 24 breakfast sandwiches. 📸: Em