The smoke from all the regional wildfires has lingered in the air for weeks now. A haze, not our customary marine layer, hovers over us. The sun rises, a fiery salmon ball in the sky. The moon sets, an orange eye in the charcoal dawn. Is this what it means that the “moon will turn into blood” out of the book of Revelation (6:12)?
Ash falls from the sky. It’s light, lighter than snowflakes descending. But it coats everything. Hills and buildings in the middle distance seem fogged in. Our lack of rain most of the summer has confused the trees. They’re turning red and yellow. Leaves drift down. Shelton and surrounding areas have an air quality alert. People suffering respiratory problems and small children should stay indoors as much as possible.
I hate to think of the acres of forests and surrounding residential neighborhoods burning uncontrollably. So much beauty destroyed in moments. So many brave men and women risking their lives to keep us all safe. This, in the wake of massive Hurricane Harvey and the impending devastation of Hurricane Irma right behind for Florida. I could blame climate change. I could say we did this to ourselves. It’s probably at least partially true. But I know it’s Biblical as well. Isaiah says the earth shall wear out like a garment. Does this mean we don’t take care of those who weathered significant loss from the storms and fires? Of course not. We grieve with and for them, and send whatever help we can. But we need to get ready for more. We can’t stand around, confused and asking why. We need to be prepared, like Boy Scouts. We must band together and plan ahead, not point fingers. We need each other now more than ever.
The Pacific Northwest is poised for a massive earthquake anytime now. We’re overdue, in fact. We seem somewhat removed, at times, from horrible acts of God. We live in a bucolic world of mountains, forests and nearby sea. Yet what lies beneath can change everything. In big and small ways, the only constant is change.
I started writing this yesterday, which was Thursday. Now it’s Friday. It started raining a little last night. Showers fall now, off and on. It’s wonderful. The air smells green and alive, even though it’s muggy. I put on closed-toe shoes to wear to work for the first time since the end of May. It feels strange.
August 1, I started driving to Thurston County for my new job. The drive takes about 25-30 minutes. As I cruise along 101, keeping a steady pace as best I can, people inevitably push me up the road. Trucks. Sedans. Motorcycles. You might think I drive like a grandma (no offense to grandmas out there). I do not. All I can think is, why are you in a hurry to get to work? It’s not going anywhere. It will wait for you.
I got my last paycheck from the City today. It’s all done. Finished. Nothing left to see here, folks. This makes the last of the major transitions in my life. For now.
Now I’m ready. God has been faithful through it all. Help me to be ready for whatever comes next.
“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33