The Flaming Barrel

Sounds like a pub, doesn't it? Like a local watering hole in some little back- woodsy village unknown by curious tourists and traveling vaccuum cleaner salesmen. But, in fact, it's what I did today. In the basement by the walk-out was a growing stack of cardboard boxes, old newspapers, and miscellaneous burnables waiting to be properly disposed. The air was crisp, the breeze light and hardly variable, and the ground cold and damp dusted with last weekend's first snow of the season. Conditions were ideal. So me and the little red wagon (stacked with the first load) took a walk to the far side of property. Newspapers and torn up boxes make a good fire. Weeks ago I had laid by the burn barrel a long dry fairly straight tree branch to serve as poker for the pyre I knew I would eventually burn. I stood there watching it burn, poking it now and then with the hand-picked tool and the mastery of a Girl Scout with ten years of experience and a solid sash of badges. This was not a destructive fire. There were no old records (well, except maybe a few mileage reports from the 1990's), no love letters from an old flame, no pictures from bankrupt relationships, just trash - useless bagage, clutter, good kindling for a constructive fire.
Standing there gazing into the blaze, leaning on my staff, I felt like Yoda from Star Wars and muttered to myself a half-remembered quote: fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. (Thanks Drew for giving me the exact quotation. Nice to have a Star Wars expert handy. The adjacent picture is of Yoda, not me - any resemblance is coincidental.)
As I poked and gazed, other thoughts came into focus: the heaviness I felt this moring; disappointment, grieving, uncertainty, sadness. It has been a heavy week. I had faithfully delivered and dispatched all that I was given. I had been wrestling with the questions of personal conviction and political compromise: the balance of righteousness and mercy. In fact, I had decided to burn the trash just to get outside, inhale crisp November air, clear my head, and accomplish something with tangible results. But I was also hauling out and burning the clutter in my heart as well.
As I cast into the fire a sappling tree that failed to grow last spring, root and all, I was reminded of Hebrews 12:15 Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any -root of bitterness start springing up trouble you, and therby many be defiled. As a wife, mother, and pastor my solemn responsibility to those with whom I am entrusted is to follow as closely as my best lights permit the teachings and promptings of the Lord.: There is no time or margin for the futility of borrowing fear, or stoking anger, or branding opposition. Now, more than any other time in our history, is the need for Christians to stand out in their love, their patience and their endurance - if necessary as a testimony to Christ, who died for all humanity.
I don't understand liberal thinking that tauts liscence to do whatever and taunts anyone who doesn't agree as being "narrow-minded". I haven't yet found Scripture supportive of teaching applauded by "the Christian Left". But I do know nothing escapes God's notice, His grace is available to all, and everything is under His Sovereignty. In the Spirit of God is the freedom to love.
This was not a destructive fire, but a cleansing flame. As the third load of trash was reduced to embers, my mind was clear, my heart lifted, and spirit restored. My "Yoda" staff smouldered. When I broke off the end, the whole thing broke apart. It was time to toss it in, and call it a day. Pray for the leaders of our nation.