It’s that time of year in our beautifully painted grassland. That time when the grey and brown paints of the winter season transform into flames of deep blacks, reds, and yellows. It’s like a new sunset starts peeking out from the once frozen ground of a rough season.
Have you ever watched a grass-field fire?
The curves of the smoke and the perfection of the flame connect in a beautifully, powerful dancing color; they clear out yet also refresh everything they touch. In the grasslands we see them everywhere. It’s like a planned death and resurrection of God’s wonderful land, ready for renewal and revitalization. Green, pink, and purple are soon to be flourishing lights in the once dim, then dark portrait.
It takes a special and timid person with true passion to create a planned wildfire. I watch with admiration as the farmers risk their homes, their properties, their investments, their work and sweat, with the faith that ending one investment will refresh and nurture a new filled crop so they can prosper. So much is at risk.
So much unpredictable.
So much, like life, out of their direct control.
So much investment.
Time full of planning, organization, and specifications must be allotted for the fire to spread where it is needed most, at the right time. Protective factors, like water, fire department, friends, family, and equipment, stay in close proximity to help guide the path. But even with the best intentions, a great plan, an amazing support, the biggest component for the fire is trust itself. Ironic trust that the fire will burn, destroy and yet allow a start over soil. A fire that leaves an inaugurating smoke and odor that will eventually dwindle away into nothing more than a memory.
But even after a wild fire comes and goes in Kansas, the sun shares it’s memories of the engulfment and infatuation of fire. It glimmers with deep colors of orange, burgundy, and gold displaying the work and beauty of which the fire created. It becomes a sun that is as breathtaking by the eyes as the smoke is by the mouth. The beauty in and from the change is undeniable.
Joy comes from the miraculousness of the wildfire. The power it has; the change it creates; the beauty it restores. It’s like feeling God’s warmth glowing, cleansing, and renewing my heart. Wild fire season means spring is upon us; summer will arise soon. Hope is growing. The black fields will show signs of itself pacing the path of creating new green, flourishing plants. Chickweeds and dandelions start to dance across my view of the once dark, dim fields. Slowly, the wild fire transforms the land to create a new season of change and refreshment. The ash begins to grow and nurture. The flame begins to dwindle. Renewing of my hope is on the arising.
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