Two weeks ago, my good friend Emma caught on fire. She was reaching for a bacon hash brown casserole (as one does) when a decorative tea light in close proximity seized the opportunity to set her favorite flowy shirt ablaze. It was a freak accident-turned-traumatizing Saturday brunch, to say the least.
Her injuries were worse than the doctors originally thought, and the burns required surgery that will necessitate months of careful healing. But in spite of the trauma, Emma’s attitude throughout the whole process has been “I’m here, let’s make the most of it.” She was stuck in the hospital for days, largely by herself (the COVID restrictions continue), and instead of complaining, she took the opportunity to befriend every nurse in the burn unit and crack some hilarious jokes (singing “this girl is on fire” included). By the end of her stay, she had all the nurses requesting to work with her. God met her in the ICU and surrounded her with people to love on her (plus probably one of the largest balloon bouquets the hospital has ever seen).
I share this story partially to spread tea light candle awareness (you’ve been warned), but also because I think fire refines something important in us.
A counselor once told me she likes to have a candle lit in her office during every session. Not only does it create a cozy, homey environment, but it reminds her that something greater is at work in the room. She allows her clients to interpret that however they want, but the reminder is there for her. For me, the candle was a symbol of the Holy Spirit guiding whatever journey we explored in that room.
And it seems there’s something to that, biblically. God is described as a consuming fire. He appeared to Moses in a burning bush, guided the Israelites from a pillar of flame. Fire gets our attention, and it’s untouchable, lest we be burned. It’s dangerous if we get too close but provides comforting warmth from a distance. It’s simultaneously essential and destructive, producing both light and ash. And in the Bible, it’s a vessel for God’s presence.
I don’t think the fire that consumed Emma’s favorite shirt and left her singed was exactly God’s way of appearing to her or showing up to that brunch, but I do know he has made himself known to all of us in the aftermath of that moment. We have seen it in the outpouring of love from the people close to her and in the peace she’s experienced knowing that there is purpose to her pain, even if we don’t know what that is yet. The consuming fire evoked from that small tea candle reminded in a moment just how precious life is, how quickly it can change, and how tangibly present God can be in our most difficult moments.
Olivia graduated from Calvin in May 2018 with a double major in business and writing. She now works as an editor in Nashville, Tennessee and is eating her way through the restaurants of her new town. She enjoys weekend trips with friends, petting other people’s dogs, and drinking coffee like a Gilmore Girl.
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Olivia- thank you for caring for Emma and giving us a reminder of God’s presence in our lives!
Thank you for reading! Emma is a dear friend <3
Beautiful story and such lovely reminders of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
Thank you, Meg! 🙂
Fire is a uniquely polarizing symbol. Perhaps that is what makes it so interesting, so useable. May we see where it leads, and what is reborn from the ashes.
Beautifully put- thank you for reading and for sharing your thoughts!
Your writing of Emma’s story brought tears. I know her grandmother Sue
and remember that horrific moment being related to me.
Wisdom, strength and encouragement come from your writing. Keep posting!
Thank you so much for your encouraging words. Emma and her family are so special to me!