Sitting by a Laughing Fire

 The Huffingham family is well acquainted with fire.

I'll never forget the phone call in late December 1977.  There had been a fire. A short in the electrical system of the house, built in 1887, and home to the Nesmith and Huffingham families since the mid '30's. My mother was running an errand.  My dad was taking a nap.  The heat of the flames shattered the glass windowed doors and woke Daddy up.

I lived in Tennessee, and I'll never forget that phone call!  Of course, I wanted to come home. But I had three children, 6.3 and four and a half months.  That trip was out of the question.

Fortunately, the tin roof saved the house.

Ruth Bell Graham's anthology of poetry, Sitting By My Laughing Fire, had been published earlier that year. My mother’s copy, borrowed from a friend, was destroyed. Mother purchased a new book and gave it to the owner.  However, that person refused to accept it, and for as long as I can remember, that book was on a Huffingham bookshelf.

Because I like poetry and Ruth Bell Graham has always been one of my "heroines", I loved that book. I wish I knew what finally happened to it.

I do know this.

The house was restored to be a beautiful example of the fact that, sometimes, when bad things happen, good things result. The book of Isaiah includes encouraging words to the Israelites who, after their return from Babylonian captivity, were facing a difficult time.  One verse is a wonderful example of what happened to our family after that fire.

"I will bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes" Isaiah 61:3.

Less than five years later, my children and I experienced the destruction of our family.

The flames of failure were devastating.  There seemed to be no beauty, just ashes.

However, my parents welcomed me and my three children into their home.  My siblings were supportive.  We lived very close to our family's home church, which made it good for us to stay involved in community and worship.

That's been more than 40 years.  Between 1982 and 1996, my children and I were privileged to live in that house.  And one of the things we most enjoyed was when the weather called for a fire.

This weekend, I have had the privilege of sitting by a laughing fire. It's not "my" laughing fire, but I am privileged to enjoy it anyone.  I've watched the flickering flames and remembered... my dad backing up to the fire, my son adding a log, the times we all spent enjoying its beauty and warmth.

And I've once more reflected on the beauty that came from the ashes and been grateful. 

   May you have enough sunshine in your life 

                                            to help you appreciate the shadows

PS I ordered the Graham book.