As, I walked around the forest this morning in my husbands house shoes, I saw the majestic beauty of the forest as she lay quietly among the ash, contemplating her next design with the enthusiasm of Donatella Versace. "What magnificence shall I birth today?"
In the aftermath of the fire with so many suffering loss, it may be hard for some to see the beauty that lays just beneath the surface. In the world of botany, the higher the ash content of fertilizer, the bigger and more colorful the blooms.
As I walked, I saw the thistles who have triumphantly spouted forth new growth among the ash. And, as much as I have hated them in the past during the spring, picking wild flowers on the roads near the thicket, I welcomed their color and fortitude. Even the majestic post oaks that burned have birthed new colors of pink, yellow and green at the bases of once adolescent trees who stood their ground in the heat of the raging wildfire.
I am thankful for the hope that lies within. I am grateful for the opportunities to instill hope in those who are hopeless. And, there are many of these, but there is also a pioneer spirit in Bastrop County that says, "We will rebuild, by the grace of God!" And, I am one of these.
We all go through storms in this life. Some weather them better than others. I really feel that it is the duty of those with hope to share their peace and hope with those who are struggling. Some will be comforted. Some will choose not to be.
For years I have collected crosses. I began collecting them back when we first bought the Conestoga, (aka the RV) and set out on our journey to explore central Texas and find our piece of paradise that we could call home.
I know a lot of people who collect things. Some collect crosses, some collect paintings, some collect antiques, some collect dolls and some collect treasures that only they see as beautiful. I have enjoyed collecting, and have cherished cultivating hope in the hopeless.
When I purchased my first cross, it was a small cobalt blue ceramic one from Mexico that Sharon and I had found on one of our adventures to Las Flores, Mexico across the river from Progreso in the Rio Grande Valley of south Texas. It was simple and small, and perfect to hang on the wall of the RV to start the collection. We were so pleased with the simplicity of our two dollar find. This was shortly after I had received by the Grace of God, the simple understanding of the magnitude of Christ's sacrifice on the cross as "A Complete Work." What an awesome new experience, and what better way to celebrate the REST, that I had entered into by this glorious divine revelation than to begin collecting remembrances of His work.
I had a very nice collection. A few were purchased by me, but then it began to become an adventure to my friends and family as well, as they joined in on the conquest to find crosses of every material imaginable to add to my collection. Then, there was the fire.
The fire took a lot of things from me. But, it could not take my joy, it could not take my peace,
it could not take my hope and it could not steal my sense of humor! I know it is twisted sometimes, but it is mine. ALL MINE!!! LOL
But, GOD...
As I sifted through the ash with my husband, post fire, we began to find the remnants of the cross collection. Time after time, shovel full after shovel full, we came up with the pieces of a once admirable collection. Many charred beyond recognition or melted into a heap of shining fused metal and some just crushed enough to appear whole until you tried to pick them up, only to have them crumble between your fingers when you did. But, then GOD...
I had pretty much resigned myself to accept the fact that the collection was history. And, I was even okay with that. I'm a pro when it comes to starting over, and new beginnings. I've had plenty of practice in this life. My roots make me a resilient contender and pioneer, REALLY! I had already decided to start a new collection when Shelton handed me the small intact charred cobalt blue cross. The first born of the collection! I was elated!!!! It was never my favorite, but it was the FIRST. And, there HAD to be some significant reason that THIS one had survived. I placed it carefully at the base of a large pine that did not burn, with a tea cup from my German china that had been gleaned from the rubble for safe keeping. And, continued on my quest.
Later on in the day, I commented to my hero with the chainsaw that the large pine was perilously close to where we would rebuild. And, that I would really like it removed before reconstruction began. After one phone call to the daughter to move her street racer, or suffer the consequence of having a large pine as a hood ornament, the Civic was moved, the chainsaw revved and down came the tree! I was delighted! That is until I realized that THAT was THE TREE where my treasures had been placed for safe keeping!
I gingerly strolled to the base of THE TREE, expecting the worst, only to find that the cross AND the tea cup BOTH were within inches of pulverization, yet had once again dodged the bullet of destruction. This time, they were both wrapped and placed carefully in the Expedition.
A few days later, I had to make an unplanned trip the valley. While packing what few clothes I had managed to flee the fire with, I began to considered the scenario of the small blue cross. Still fully knowing that there was some significance in the survivability, the blue cross hitched a ride south in the big red purse.
Shortly after arriving in the valley, I received a phone call from my dearest friend entreating me to join her on a mission to bring comfort to our new friend who was devastated at some very heartbreaking news. We met at our friends business, unannounced toward the end of a work day with a bottle of smooth red wine. Our intent was to encourage and show our love and concern for our new friend, and offer "friend shoulders" for support. When we walked in, the HEAVINESS of our friends' heart was tangible! BUT GOD...
There were still a few late afternoon clients left to be seen, so we planted ourselves on the sofa and made our selves at home, while our friend poured the wine and inquired as to what honor was owed for the pleasure of our unannounced visit. "We just came by to love you, show our support, drink a little wine and bring hugs." With that, a tiny smile void of all hope, peaked through. Our friend was drowning in a deluge of emotions, and we brought wine! You have to know our history, and how we first met to appreciate how truly appropriate the wine was. But, that's another day and another story. His eyes moistened with tenderness, and I swear I heard my ribs crack, as he hugged us like his life depended on it. It did.
For the next several hours, between clients and sometimes with clients, he revealed unabashedly the events leading up to the present devastation caused by the life crisis that had swallowed him whole, leaving little room for air. He needed to unload, and he did. We listened, encouraged, cried and hugged. But, what we wanted to do more than anything was to love our friend by showing support and instilling hope.
As we talked and encouraged, shared and teared, I looked at Sharon and quietly said under my breath, "I have to give him my little blue cross." Her eyes filled with tears as we saw the message of hope through the tenacity of the message of the little blue cross, that had become my favorite as the only survivor of my collection by not being destroyed by fire, nor by tree.
I took the charred little blue cross from by purse and began to share with him the story of hope and the grace of God that we were not harmed though our home was consumed. And, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, The forth Man in the flames would walk him through this life fire, too. And, not even the smell of smoke would be upon him in the end.
Though he protested, I insisted that he accept my cross as a gift, and find a place among his own extensive collection of crosses that hung on the wall behind him. So, that when he felt dismayed he could look at the little blue survivor and remind himself, that like the little blue cross that suffered in the fire, he too would survive by the grace of God and the Spirit of God, the forth man in the fire. And, that the char was only a reminder of the trial, but the cross was a reminder of the faithfulness of God to preserve him. He then vowed without another word to always cherish the gift of hope in the little blue cross, and smiled warmly as the Spirit of God through grace, gave hope to the once hopeless.
Two witnesses, one bottle of wine, one divine appointment, and the grace of God. God is sooo good, ALWAYS!!!!!!
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