There is something mesmerizing about it.
It is continuously dancing amongst the logs. Putting off heat and shining a light for all to see.
I’ve sat and watched the fire a bunch this past week as I’ve tried to process where the weight I’m feeling is coming from.
So the fire. It never flickers the same twice and you know what else? It shines the brightest when darkness surrounds it.
This past week felt hard emotionally for me.
We should have been through week two in Philly.
But we aren’t.
We are still home.
Every week Brady’s B cells haven’t recovered means a longer delay in starting his HuCART treatment.
Every week we haven’t started means another week closer to Christmas.
He missed Christmas last year. Well, didn’t just miss it, it was a train wreck.
I know all of that is sitting like a weight on my shoulders. A weight I can’t seem to shake off. A weight that seems to get heavier with each week that passes while we wait.
But that weight, well it’s just a perspective.
I’m here carrying this mounting weight of each delay and Sunday Brady grabs my hand as we walk out of church. With a big smile on his face he looks at me and says, “I’m ready to get to Philly, but I’m so thankful we aren’t there yet. I would have missed out on so many fun things these past couple weeks if we were gone already.”
That single statement was the reminder I needed.
What if I looked at every log on the fire as an opportunity rather than a problem?
Sure, every log that is added to the fire is more weight to what lies below, but you know what it really is? It is the opportunity to burn brighter.
Without adding a log, or multiple logs, the fire will become smaller and smaller until finally, with nothing left to burn, it dies out.
When I look at Jesus and his ministry I see so many trying to tear him down. Trying to put out his fire.
But they couldn’t.
In the face of adversity, in the depths of his own heartache, in the times of his own suffering, his fire burned. It burned so bright that the people around couldn’t deny it.
And when the world around him couldn’t possibly get any darker, another log was added to his fire.
They hung him on a cross. They waited for him to die.
But when the world was dark, he used that darkness to shine brighter then ever before.
He looked at those who had ridiculed him. Who had tormented and tortured him. Who were casting lots upon his death.
And you know what he did with each of those logs? He burned. He said, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they’ve done.”
He could have said anything in that moment while he faced death. But he didn’t. He looked at those cruel men and asked for them to be forgiven. Because he is fire. He is light. He is love.
And that love and light shines brightest in the dark.
Every day, every week, that has gone by has been an opportunity to add more logs to our fire. More weight from the anticipation of what is ahead, but also the ability to burn brighter because of it.
Another log today. Another round of two kinds of chemo for Brady, but also the opportunity to give out 20 Battle Pups at NCH. Also the opportunity to visit with our dear friends whose daughter was there for surgery.
So often we fear the logs that are thrown or the darkness surrounding us.
The tunnel or dead end that feels scary. The cave that feels cold and lonely. The woods that feel dense and overwhelming.
But the truth is, the fire is far more captivating in the darkness. The incredible dance that the fire does is much more visible when the darkness falls around it.
Maybe you find yourself in the same place today. You are weighted down by anxiety, worry, shame, guilt, grief, you name it. Well, today friends, let’s not be weighted down by them, but rather let us use these things to allow us to burn brighter. Let us dance knowing that God doesn’t allow any logs to be thrown upon us that can’t be used to fuel us forward.
We are with you in the battle.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.”