 |
|
|
The mirror betrayed everything about last night, except for the stench of smoke that saturated my clothes and the strange peace that had settled into my heart. Tears streaked my soot covered face, smudged by the dull grey from smoke. My disheveled appearance masked the calmness that came from action.
Friday night is the quietest night in my neighborhood. It had become my favorite night of the week because the church next door was dark and empty. No car doors slamming, no noise from happy families and friends calling out to each other. I could sit on my porch and enjoy my solitude.
This is where I was when I saw smoke pouring from the stain-glassed windows. After calling 911, I waited. I didn’t want to be in the way, but something was telling me to go help. As I waited for the sirens, instead of jumping with joy with the eminent demise of the structure that had caused me so much grief over the past year, I started remembering the events that led to today.
After months of searching for the right house, my realtor shyly suggested viewing this property. I didn’t understand her hesitancy and fell in love instantly. A wrap-around porch was high on my wish list and here it was. Just one house to the north and a cute little white church would be my neighbor to the south. No noisy neighbors like those I had left behind with this move, or so I thought, as I admired the sharp white steeple and the quaint architecture. The town was busy but this could be my oasis.
After the confusion from the move subsided, I started to settle into my new neighborhood. Then the commotion began. The constant comings and goings of this gregarious congregation was never-ending. My quiet Sunday mornings of reading the newspaper from my comfortable porch were soon shattered by the droves of families, many whom would wave as they pulled into parking spots. It was my peaceful street filling up with cars as they paraded by the live nativity scene for three whole weeks before Christmas. Easter morning was a crush of activity between the sunrise service and the egg hunt later in the day. My ears rang from all the slamming of car doors. Not just holidays, but vacation bible school and choir practice. One summer weekend every church member was there, pounding nails or washing windows or mowing grass.
The first fire truck startled me from my musings. The man I recognized as the pastor was standing in the yard, alone, looking lost. I moved. Not understanding why, I went to him and asked what I could do to help. He gave me a blank look and stared back at the church. The smoke had turned to flames and the redness reflected on his face taut with emotion. He said most of the members were away on a retreat, and would I go in with him to help salvage some priceless items.
As the fire chief led us in, the pastor starting calling out “Satan, Satan, where are you?” It wasn’t blame I heard in his voice, it was concern. A faint meow was his reply and I could see a black cat under a pile of debris that had already fallen. “Could you take Satan home and see that he is safe?” I rattled my head in disbelief. To hear this request from a man of God was too much. Another meow and I understood. Scooping up the cat, I ran home. He was shaking as I pulled out old towels and made a bed for him in the bathtub. I filled a bowl of water and placed it on the drain, closed the bathroom door and ran back to the church.
More men had arrived and had started a fire line to help retrieve some church relics. That line of people saved many items, including a historic Bible, and antique collection plates. Little did anyone know at the time, a neighbor too, was saved. Amid the smoke and confusion, firefighters and church members, I discovered that a church is more than a building; it is where all kinds of people come together under all kinds of circumstances. I don’t know when the tears flowed. I don’t know if they were for the cat, the church, or for me, but they did and I have the tracks tonight to prove it.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
