Fire Speaks

Whether by necessity, happenstance, or design, I’ve had a wood burning stove of some kind in all but one house I’ve lived in over the last forty years. Over time, experience has taught me a few things about fire. Building a fire from scratch, tending it, and keeping it going 24/7 is an exercise in observation and tenacity--couple that with a wise, softly speaking teacher…I would say fire can speak mysteries. 

My very first wood stove came as a gift. We had “upgraded” from a school bus to a mobile home on two acres. Someone in the church I belonged to at the time owned a business selling wood burning stoves and accessories. As a house-warming gift (no pun intended!), they gave us a choice of a $500 gift certificate or a wood stove. We chose the wood stove (specially made for mobile homes)—one of the few wise choices we made during that time. That stove witnessed and participated in many stories I could tell, but that’s for another time.

The second and third stoves came with the two historic houses I lived in many years later. If you’ve ever lived in an old house that hasn’t been renovated, you know they’re drafty. It’s hard to find a spot that’s consistently warm. A wood fire is a welcome supplement to any kind of heat—it gives you something warm to back up to.

My current house has a heat pump—efficient for cooling, but, when temperatures are in the 30’s, you have to switch on the electric heat strips, which cost more to run. I bought the house in December 2006--and I was cold all winter. The fireplace created ambiance, but no heat. It seemed the heater ran continually but I didn’t feel warm, ever. I determined not to go through another winter like that, and the next Fall I bought my Homestead soapstone stove. I’ve had it now for almost twenty years. It’s by far the best stove I've had and I consider it one of the best investments I’ve made.

That’s my wood stove history--but what about Fire? That’s the real substance of my story. Fire is a fascinating natural phenomenon. I can’t begin to explain it—scientific minds can do that—I can only experience it, appreciate it, and learn from it. There are very real dangers with fire—I’ve had a couple of scary moments. But I've also had moments when the fire speaks to my soul…when I’m staring into the flickering blue and yellow flames depths and suddenly, or sometimes slowly, I begin to see…

A fire begins small. A layer of balled up newspaper, then kindling placed crosswise, then two or three bigger sticks crossing on top, then a little bigger piece on top. The key is air flow between the graduating sizes. Air feeds the fire and each layer provides fuel for the next. Once it’s burning, I carefully lay bigger pieces of wood on top until it catches, progressing to logs that keep the fire going. Too big a piece on top too soon will smother the fire.

Some friendships are like that…probably most of them, says Fire. Start small, be patient, build trust, give room to breathe. Don’t smother with too much too soon—heavy burdens of expectations, unnecessary opinions, or unsolicited advice. 

Once the fire is going strong, I keep feeding it and adjusting the airflow--sometimes by poking it a bit. A bigger log can last awhile, but it will go out if I wait too long before adding more wood. I can build it back up if there are still coals, but if it goes out I have to start from scratch again. Fire lovingly reminds me: a strong friendship can handle the big stuff, but don’t just drop it and leave it. Adjust the “airflow” by communicating and have that difficult conversation to clear the air. Don’t ignore signs of tension or distance, and be kind, sensitive, and attentive. A good friendship, like a good fire, needs to be fed and tended.

One of the clearest messages I remember was during a time of isolation from my Christian brothers and sisters. Going through a period of “I can connect with God on my own, thank you”, I wasn’t plugged in anywhere with others who could encourage and support me. One day, I was staring at the fire: a lone log—mostly black, glowing red on the edges, about to go out for lack of coals to bolster it—and I knew that was me. A log alone can’t sustain itself. There has to be a solid bed of coals underneath to keep it burning, and it’s best to have at least two pieces of wood burning together to keep the fire going. A pretty clear message: I'm burning out by myself. I need people to walk with to keep the fire going.

These are a few messages from Fire…is it just common sense, or do you think that Fire can speak mysteries through the voice of its Creator? In my humble opinion, a personal message is a profound mystery.  I love when it happens, and I also love the toasty dry warmth of wood heat. I guess I’ll keep using my wood stove as long as I can lift a log.

The king said to Daniel, “Surely your God is the God of gods and the Lord of kings and a revealer of mysteries…( Daniel 2:47)