We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.

C.S. Lewis, Letters of C.S. Lewis

This past Sunday evening I was finishing up a blog post, resuming my regular Monday morning posting schedule after a surgery hiatus. The post had to do with wildfire smoke taint on the fruit in mountain vineyards and what we might learn in seasons of constant crisis.

For context, in three of the past four years we’ve had fires in Sonoma County that defy imagination. Added to the destruction, and despite only a 1-2% covid-19 infection rate, our county seems stuck in California’s “purple tier”, indicating (somehow) widespread infection, and requiring all indoor business operations to remain closed or with severely limited operations. Business owners – and pastors – are frustrated. People in general are anxious, weary.

Ours is a beautiful county, has always been a vacation destination despite high taxes and a state government that seems, at times, to operate from outer space.

So I’m sitting at my desk finishing up the Monday missive when an undulating orange glow rims the eastern hills. The Napa County Glass fire that began early Sunday morning was moving west rapidly, fanned by 50 mph winds. Nixle alerts began coming in with evacuation orders for sector after sector.

Next day, the skies were thick with muddy gray smoke, and the air was a sickly orange. Ash adds layer upon layer to every exterior surface. The colors, the smells were sickeningly familiar.

It might be like, say, living on Mars.

On the little lane on which we purchased a lot and built our home last year, four of the seven houses were lost in the Tubbs Fire of October 2017, our property being one of them. Our neighbors are anxious. Instead of a “go bag”, one of them keeps a large black trailer in his driveway filled with necessities for flight and ready to hook up to his large black truck. Another neighbor was hosing down her roof. “Not taking that chance again,” she says. Her home had been spared, barely.

Why share this? I share it because it is a season of being thwarted at every turn. Get through one thing, face another. There we were, minding our own business, raising our families, doing our best. And now? Toggling between one crisis and the next.

But the status quo never advances us very far very fast. The writer of Psalm 119 refers to this fact when he confesses:

I used to wander off until you disciplined me; but now I closely follow your word.

Psalm 119:67 NLT

Christians recognize that trouble is disciplinary. Its effect can, if we allow it, focus our attention, remind us that faith and all of those muscular spiritual traits that should be exhibited in the life of the believer are developed in tough times. It is, in fact, part of the process of sanctification. As our pastor pointed out last Sunday:

Sanctification is Jesus developing in you what He died to make you. It’s realigning our priorities, thoughts, and emotions.

Pastor Nicolas Celovsky

So, eyes on Jesus. And as the song says:

Even when I don’t see it, You’re working. Even when I don’t feel it, You’re working. You never stop, never stop working.

Waymaker, Osinachi Okoro

That truth should inform our prayer life to a powerful degree. My task is to pray for the peace of my city, of my county, to pray for the thousands of firefighters working around the clock, and for those suffering loss and displacement.

And there is also this important task. Last night I text messaged a friend whose home was under evacuation warning to offer our home if they should need to leave. She responded: “Please pray that this will call my daughter and her husband and kids back to church. They know the Lord but are apart from Christ’s body. This fire has them really rattled.” So I will pray that those rattled hearts will respond to the loving conviction of the Holy Spirit.

Remember: this mysterious chain of ruinous events is not outside the knowledge or mercy of God. This is true in your community, as well, wherever you are in the world. We can rest in that knowledge, grow in that knowledge, and move God’s kingdom forward.