For Wilshire Baptist Church
I didn’t notice the irony at first, but last week we attended the graduation ceremony of class #82 of the Collin College Fire Academy. Wilshire’s Ethan Walters was among the 21 graduates, and we were there to support him but also Kristi, his incredible, tenacious mother.
The irony was that for several days before that I had been texting with my brother who was preparing to evacuate as the Cooks Peak wildfire burned ever closer to their ranch house in northeast New Mexico. For he and his neighbors, evacuation involved more than just family and a few things they might need; they had to move their livestock as well. That evening after the fire academy ceremony, as my brother and I were talking about the wildfire again, I told him about the graduating class and said, “I was thinking those 21 fresh rookies oughta get on a bus and head your way.”
Hearing a little bit about the new graduates during the ceremony, I have no doubt that if they had been told to climb on a bus and ride all night to help fight the wildfires, they would have done just that. Already they have committed themselves to a life of sacrifice and service that most of us can’t imagine. As it is, the young graduates will quickly move on to their first jobs at firehouses all over North Texas or go to EMS school to add to their expertise.
Meanwhile, as of this writing, the Cooks Peak Fire is 97% contained after burning up almost 60,000 acres. Another fire — Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon — has burned 160,000 acres and at only 20% contained threatens numerous communities including the historic town of Las Vegas, New Mexico, where residents are packing what they can and keeping their ears trained for the alarms and calls to evacuate.
Early in our marriage, LeAnn and I came up with a phrase when we go to bed and don’t need to set an alarm clock: “safe and secure from all alarms.” It’s a riff on the line from the old hymn, “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” Our usage is tongue-and-cheek, of course, but I know there are countless people who feel neither safe nor secure as they go to bed at night — whether they’re facing a wildfire in New Mexico, a Russian attack in Ukraine, or daily struggles related to unemployment, hunger, homelessness, illness and loneliness.
“Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” is a hymn about our relationship with God. It paints a picture of a life where it is “sweet to walk” with the Lord on a path that grows brighter every day and where there is nothing to dread or fear. It’s a sunny picture for sure, but we know life and our relationship with God is not always so easy. The reality is that life is hard, and people in the thick of turmoil may not be able to see God amid the smoke and fire that is igniting their fear and dread.
But maybe they can see us. The first line of the hymn states, “What a fellowship, what a joy divine, leaning on the everlasting arms.” The fellowship it speaks of is with God, but it might as well be with you and me. My brother told me about how his wife Lisa and other members of the community were taking food down the highway to the firefighters. “Those fellas are hot, tired, nasty and hungry!” he said. That’s a ministry for sure; that’s being the hands and feet of Christ; that’s offering an arm to lean on.
We’re blessed that the young firefighters who have just graduated and the heroes they are joining are trained and ready to protect and even rescue us from fires and other disasters. The rest of us have been trained too, if we’ve been paying attention, to offer “fellowship” to those around us who need an arm to lean on.