Fire

Fire tends to create Hi-Def moments.

Flames and firetrucks exploded into my world last Friday afternoon as fire engulfed a large maintenance building 25 yards from our home at the camp where we live.

Engulfed.

The black smoke could be seen 15 miles away. Buttressed up against the building, facing our home, were two 60 gallon tanks. One held gasoline, the other diesel. The “barn,” as we call it, was full of vehicles loaded fuel.

When the fire broke out, 350-400 people were at camp. I was among this gathered group about 150 yards away from the brewing disaster. We were at the camp closing celebration, completely unaware.

“Fire! Fire in the maintenance barn.”

The staff moved into high gear, most attending to the campers and parents in their care. I joined the sprint of the support staff to the barn.

The sight was overwhelming. The building was already lost.

The gasoline tank! The thought induced terror.

How soon will it blow?

Our son, Josh, was home alone, only yards a potential blast.

My race to the house are minutes I will never forget.

Only one thing mattered.

With everyone safe, my prayers for the fuel tanks were constant, out-loud cries. Then I saw four men, dads desperate to help, to make a difference. They were only feet from the building.

“Get away from the fire!” I shouted again and again.

Two of the men were off-duty firemen.

Despite a steadfast desire, with no water or equipment, they were as helpless as the rest of us.

The tanker trucks arrived. Firefighters, with water and the right equipment, halted the flames around the large fuel tanks, ending the threat of explosions and what I feared could be the mass destruction of the north end of camp.

The fire, bent on destruction, destroyed the barn and all the camp vehicles, equipment and tools it contained. It also consumed a passenger van (parked along side the building) and an additional shed. An unoccupied camp home sustained exterior damage. The miracle stories are many.

48 hours later, I had another Hi-Def moment.

The momentum and consuming nature of sparks and smoke created an impossible situation. The conditions were ripe.

On a weekly basis, against the backdrop of tremendous opportunities and demands, we too, are up against the momentum of an impossible situation.

It’s overload. Like fire, it will consume and engulf.

Are the conditions ripe in your life?

All the desire in the world to fight this beast is no match or remedy for overload, without the right equipment.

What time-tested tools are you using to battle this blaze?

This battle requires the right equipment. Combating overload invites, demands a commitment to Rhythms of Rest. We see these rhythms in the Bible.

• Sabbath

• Sleep

• Stillness (soul-care)

• Solitude (personal retreat)

These Rhythms of Rest give us access to water. You know the kind. It’s described in John 4:13-14. It’s designed for parched and weary souls.

Without Living Water and these tools, we are helpless against the cultural riptide of exhaustion and overload.

It’s a battle of life and death.

Are alarm bells sounding in your life?

Is This Your First Time Here?

Welcome!

Run hard. Rest well. launched in March 2013. If this topic grabs your heart, we’d like to encourage you to subscribe to this weekly blog. The information to do so is located on the right hand side of this page. Along the way, we’ve encouraged folks to read the first 12-weeks of posts found in the archives. (But no rush. Go slow.) Start with Week 1 (from March). Each post is numbered and lays an important foundational insight into the life-giving rhythm Run hard. Rest well.

• The site is under construction for a few weeks to compile the e-book, re-vamp the site and prepare to launch out into a broader spectrum of people. During this time I am going to send out shorter posts and some links to articles I’ve written. Hope they are a blessing.

run hard. rest well.

Brenda

First time here?