If Summer Slips Away

I had this crazy feeling last night. Of summer slipping away, and sunsets not tasting as sweet as they do now, rounding out days of shorts and sandals.

It's ridiculous, because it's regularly hitting around and over 90 degrees in L.A. right now, and up and down the state, it is BEYOND too hot with the Ferguson and Carr fires (and more) destroying homes and taking lives.

I'm not sure what else to say about this besides how possessions and safety are not promised to us, but thank goodness there are brave ones who fight literal inferno to protect our very lives. Who protects them amidst trees and flames but a God who made the stars? Our lives really are but a vapor.

It's easy to not know, not read, not check in about fires, mudslides, shootings, you name it. But they have names, and families, and neighborhoods, and communities. For that reason, our prayers should be fervent and specific.

For Redding and Yosemite and Nia and Lahtifa Wilson and all of their families. That fires would be quenched and justice and comfort delivered, swiftly. That wreckage and grief would give way to rebuilding.

I think in 2018, between watching people be picked apart on news and social media (dragged, canceled, what have you - this is a great video) and polarizing views polarizing who we choose to spend time with, it can be easy to forget how little control, agency, omniscience we might have to change our climates, political and geological. These days it can be hard to hope, to confidently plan for the future.

"Thoughts and prayers" as a bumper sticker reply may be exhausted, but as a real idea, if we know the issues the world faces (and we should not shy away) we cannot NOT think, we cannot NOT pray. It's not our sighs of sympathy and fear that protect firefighters and loved ones. It's not intellectual skepticism. It's a God who hears prayers and changes the direction of the winds and seas, and replaces hearts of stone with hearts of flesh.

A heart of stone can't see, doesn't read, doesn't ask, doesn't beat.

We do need plenty of policy change and we do need active voters. But there are still mountains and fires beneath which we lie small in the face of, requiring us to both plead for and hope confidently in the change of the seasons.

May we trade any season of fear for one of courage and mercy.


This GoFundMe for Nia Wilson's funeral set up by her sister, Malika, has well surpassed its goal, but contributions may still be sent here:

You may have seen this great-grandfather Ed Bledsoe on the news. He lost his wife, great-grandchildren and home to the Carr Fire. This GoFundMe for him has yet to reach its goal: