I was planning on blogging during my carved-out free time last Thursday. It was a pretty uneventful day (at first), but I wanted to write, anyway. It was going to be about enjoying those slow days instead of slipping into a stupor, hoping writing that would wake me up out of mine. After clipping some basil and flowers from the garden, the kids and I bumbled back into the house to find a scented soy beads candle burner that had somehow re-ignited itself into a HUGE flame. There was a cup of water sitting nearby. I knew not throw water on burning grease, but I figured it'd be okay on wax and I had to act fast for fear the flame would reach the tablecloth that I thankfully folded away from the candle before lighting it. I tossed the water and WHOOSH! The fire shot up to the ceiling, spreading out in a horrible fan of flames. I shouted at the kids to get out of the house! and ran my baby out to the front yard away from the house as she screamed. I sprinted over to my husband in our 5th-wheal studio and screeched, "Fire in the kitchen!" Then, running into the house to make sure none of the kids went back in, I expected to see the whole kitchen lit up in flames. But it wasn't. There was no fire. Just the sound of the fire alarm and my kids wailing in terror outside. My neighbor rushed over because she saw the flame from my window and came to see what was going on. I told her what happened, but that there was no more fire and the house was fine. I rushed to help Jeremy comfort the kids. We walked them back inside to show them it was safe as they clung to our sides, whimpering.
I immediately felt like I was just given an opportunity. I needed to stop and wait to find out what it was, because I was still pretty rattled. Then I felt the answer. I told my kids that what was at first bad and scary turned out to be so good. We're not to get caught up in the fear of this situation, but to realize how protected we were. No one was hurt, and the house remained unharmed except for a little blackening on the ceiling (that we'll soon paint over). It's good to talk about our feelings, but to always remember the ending of this story. We were completely protected, and there is no reason to play the what-if game. This isn't a bad story that we'll shudder about every time we look back on it, but it's a story of miraculous protection, and we praise Jesus every time we think of it!
It feels so good that the power of fear has been broken off of my own life, and I long for my kids to grow up without that evil power stifling them. I've recently been feeling the importance of identifying generational strongholds and destroying them, just as my parents did with so many issues for my brother and I. It feels like what Gandolf in "Lord of the Rings" did when standing against that demon thing that was trying to get Frodo, and he yelled, "You will not pass!" That's what that moment felt like to me. I was yelling at that spirit of fear, "You will not pass!" This isn't going to get through to another generation. We have been redeemed, and with me standing in agreement with my Savior... It. Will. Not. The end.