The First Fire

The first fire in the wood stove each fall is a spiritual experience for me, it beckons an awakening of a quietude that is lost during the hot summer. This one small happening brings with it a flood of emotions that are connected deeply to the things I love the most in life. Memories of children sitting on the floor surrounded by toys, laughing at the popping of the wood as they made play horses jump and play people do chores. There are precious memories of little grandbabies sleeping soundly in the cradle, snuggled tightly under home made quilts, their tiny rosy cheeks begging to be kissed ever so gently. As I sit in front of this first fire of the season, I think about all the quiet evenings that are yet to be born. Conversations between Emery and I that are like the finest treasures. This little stove will be the place where steaming mugs of hot cocoa and pancakes on Sunday mornings are made.

This morning as I sit spinning the last of the orange silk and merino blend, I listen to the noisy crows outside my window, calling to one another. Perhaps they are talking to each other about the first fire in our stove too, a sure sign that winter is not that far away.

Deeply I sigh and thank God for His rich and wonderful blessings in my life. Last night we celebrated Steven and Priscilla's birthdays. Laughter around the table, good food, 2 three year olds with lots of energy dancing together hand in hand. Two babies being passed around with honest joy from each recipient of this honor to hold and snuggle the newest additions to the family. Emery and I, sitting tall, so proud of our children and grandchildren. With Gods help we have raised up another generation that will each in their own way, make this world a better place. This first fire, is a holy experience for me, a time to give thanks, to count blessings and to re-affirm all the reasons we live this simple life.

1 Thessalonians 5:16 Be joyful always;