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Fires and bottomless wells

Linda’s Lines
Linda Wegner

Vast tracts of Western Canada are engulfed in flames this morning. Thousands of folks have been evacuated, houses have been destroyed and across three provinces the skies are filled with smoke and ash. As we left for church today I was reminded of the eruption of Mount St. Helen's. We lived close enough to experience that "ash snow," but this time it's fire, multiple fires, in fact, that are burning far too close for comfort.

I can't even imagine the emotions that flood the hearts and minds of those who have had to leave their homes to the fury of flames. Though I live mere minutes from the shores of the Pacific Ocean, the description "rain forest country" has become more a memory than a reality. The current situation has resulted in bans on all open fires and railings against those who carelessly discard cigarette butts.

In addition to the haze that turned our moon blood red and painted our blue skies an eerie shade of brown, there's more evidence of the seriousness of it all. Facebook is flooded with comments and photos and some neighbours are now abandoning their lawnmowers and erecting signs which read: Brown is the New Green. Lush manicured expanses surrounding homes and public buildings have temporarily lost their appeal because as much as I enjoy verdant lawns, I'd rather preserve our city's water supply for my beans, tomatoes and onions.

There are days when my soul feels parched, too, scorched from the daily exposure of life. As a psalmist, one of the sons of Korah, once wrote, "As the hart pants and longs for the water brooks, so I pant and long for You, O God." (Psalm 42:1)

Thank God, there's no bottom to the well of living water, no restrictions on how deeply we may drink to slake our thirst.