G. C. Jeffers

There is something about fire, isn’t there? Something about the flickering warmth dancing and swaying among the ineffable shadows, awakening hazy memories of a time before—or a time to come—when humanity wandered the earth. Before (or after) the great domestication.

* * *

The past three days in Abilene were the first true days of Fall. Temperatures were in the 40s and low 50s. Scarves and jackets were worn. Eric made the first apple cider of the season.

And it was God’s gracious gift to my beleaguered soul—my soul in need of so much rest and rejuvenation after a week of emotional strain and mental exhaustion.

On Sunday night, after a day of joyful goofiness with my roommates, I met Amanda at her house after she got home from work and we ate the best it’s-cold-outside food on the planet: enchiladas.

And, after dinner: coffee, blankets, and a fire against the cold darkness formed the symbol of Love.

* * *

For fire—that unpredictable co-laborer with humanity, a gift from God to warm and light the darkness, eternal symbol of Goodness, Faith, Civilization, Hope—I am thankful today.

P.S. This is a continuation of a theme I began a couple weeks ago at the leading of Micha Boyett.