Susan Spess Shay

Still playing make believe.


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Fire. Proof.

My sister called me yesterday afternoon when I was in Stillwater. “Are you at home?”

“No. We’re working on the boy’s house, just getting ready to leave. What’s up?”

“We’re on our way home from Tulsa. There’s a big fire–smoke everywhere. I talked to a friend whose house is in a neighborhood nears yours and they’re being evacuated.”

Wow. Those words put a little extra length in my stride as I carried things to the car. I wasn’t really worried, but my heart beat a little bit faster and I couldn’t quite fill my lungs when I breathed. We headed home pretty quickly.

We take the turnpike because once we get on it, it’s pretty much a straight shot to our house. Yesterday, when we got to the end, cars were backed up about for about a half mile. The highway to take us on home was closed.

As we went through the only open lane, a man told me to take the road to 51 and go into Tulsa.

“Can I go to C-Town instead?”

“Yes.”

“Can I get back on the highway from C-Town?”

“Once you’re past forty-eight, you’re fine.” The man was so nice. And it was so hot! I wish I’d given him something to drink, but in my excitement I forgot I had Gatorade in the car with me. 😦

Thank God for cell phones. G-Man isn’t as prone to ask questions as I am, so I called him and told him what I’d learned.

“He didn’t tell me that.”

“He didn’t tell me, either. I had to ask.”

We headed toward C-Town and kept meeting long lines of cars–people being routed off the highway because of fire. As we got nearer the house, we could see huge clouds of dark blue, nearly purple smoke. It looked like a bruise.

Of course, I imagined one of those fires being my house. It wasn’t. (Thank you, Jesus!) We passed a convenience store whose parking lot was filled with emergency vehicles. Two ambulances were there on stand-by. On the back bumper of one sat a fire fighter who looked exhausted. Sick. Really beat up.

I wasn’t close enough to recognize him, but I prayed for the man and all the  men who put their lives on the line to stop fires.

As I drove, I listened to a preacher on Bott Radio (95.1 FM).

He talked about David and Goliath, comparing Goliath to the giant problems and worries in our lives.

David was very young and a shepherd, not a soldier. Goliath was nine feet tall and wore armour that weighed as much as David. He had huge sword and spear.

David told the king he would take on Goliath in combat, even though the entire Israel army was afraid of him. David wasn’t afraid. He knew God would handle Goliath, he told the king he’d killed a lion and a bear, and he told the king that God had done that. He’d take care of this giant, too.

So the king allowed David (and God) to take Goliath on.

David had a sling and five stones. Goliath laughed at him, but David just fit the first stone into his sling, swung it around and let it fly. God gave it the speed and accuracy it needed to plow right into the only unprotected spot on Goliath–his forehead. And it took him down.

All our giants aren’t named Goliath. Sometimes they’re called Debt. Or Substance Abuse. Or Unplanned Pregnancy. Or Illness. (From me–sometimes they’re called Fire!)

“The fire of God burns so hot, no Goliath can stand against it.”

I was amazed! Here I was, worried about fire and it’s like God spoke to me out of that radio. “My fire is hotter than that stuff you’re worried about. Stop worrying. Put it in My hands. They’re fire-proof.”

I’m so glad they are!

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