A few weeks ago, my town was blanketed with thick smoke and covered with ash. Wildfires were dangerously close and people in nearby areas had to be evacuated from their homes. There were reports of arsonists setting other fires. It was chaos, doom and gloom. In other words, another page in the nail-biting saga of 2020.
For about ten days we lived indoors, the air too hazardous to venture outside unless it was essential. Once the air quality index dipped into the normal “unhealthy” zone instead of off-the-charts, I took my dog for a much-needed walk. We stopped at a field where I often let him roam, and amid the dry and brittle weeds I saw some items I didn’t recognize (and others I did). The hair on the back of my neck rose. It looked like someone may have been trying to start a fire. Yet, I wasn’t sure. Some of the items didn’t make sense. The wooden baseball bat, for instance, or this other mysterious metal object. I wondered if I should call the police. Instead, I called my husband for advice.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that stuff,” he said.
“Are you sure? You don’t think someone was trying to start a fire?”
“It sounds like maybe some kids messing around,” my husband reassured me, “or maybe some homeless people. It’s just with everything we’ve been hearing on the news, what would have been of little concern before now raises a red flag.”
I followed my husband’s advice and didn’t call the police. In my spirit, I knew he was right, but the pervasive sense of unease didn’t quite leave me.
A couple of days later, the smoke cleared and we were treated to a glorious blue sky and sunshine. After days of not seeing the sun, of not breathing fresh air, of being cooped up—the day held the same kind of joy and celebration as Christmas. I took my dog on our usual walk, and the stuff I had seen before was still there. This time I laughed. Under the light of the sun, the items in the field were obviously marijuana smoking paraphernalia. I felt absurd for my earlier fears. How could I have thought I was looking at the remnants of an attempted arson? The items in the field were simply remnants of someone, probably a couple of teenagers, up to mischief. What they left behind indicated bad personal choices and a quick escape, but not an intent for property destruction or to harm others.
It was so easy to see a threat. To see evil and destruction. Why? Because I was living under fear as much as I was living under a thick cloud of smoke. Fear separated me from the truth and wisdom of Jesus as much as the gloomy smoke separated me from the sunlight.
Satan loves for us to live in fear, to see things through ash-covered murk that hides the truth. He wants us to see the things others do as threats, insults, and ill-intent when they are simply unintended oversights or bad habits. If we are fearful and suspicious of each other, we live in isolation, without community. We become weak. Easy prey.
It made me think about all the fear this year has brought up in myself and others I know. How much is that fear tainting what we see? Who is it causing us to keep away from, not just physically, but emotionally and intellectually?
I’m praying for God to wash away any smoke that may be clouding my vision and keeping me from seeing His truth.
The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? – Psalm 27:1 (NIV)
Melanie Campbell is a member of Oregon Christian Writers and ACFW. Her debut novel, One Woman Falling, won the 2020 Oregon Christian Writer’s Cascade Award for contemporary fiction and is a finalist for the Selah Award for first novel. One Way Home, the second novel in her Whispers of Grace series, is scheduled for release November 1, 2020.
Melanie wrote her first story when she was eight years old and has been in love with the power of storytelling ever since. She is also passionate about social issues and holds a degree in Sociology from the University of Oregon, which she obtained during her stint as a single mom. She’s now married and lives in Oregon’s beautiful Willamette Valley with her family and several spoiled pets.
When not writing, Melanie enjoys exploring Oregon’s beautiful outdoors by hiking, kayaking, and going for drives in the country. In less-than-favorable weather conditions, you will find her enjoying an intriguing book and a strong cup of coffee.
She’s hanging by a string—with only one chance left.
A recovering alcoholic and longtime widow, Sharon has struggled to build a new life. But Sharon can’t seem to escape from her past. Her mother’s deathbed confession haunts her. Convinced the answer to truly overcoming her addiction lies with her biological father, Sharon sends off a DNA test in the hope of finding him. When the results of the test aren’t as revealing as Sharon anticipates, she and her daughter, Cassie, team up to find the truth.
Meanwhile an old flame shows up. Sharon doesn’t think she can ever love again, but what Johnny offers seems like a dream come true. His charm and kindness shine so bright, Sharon can almost believe he’s changed.
As the search for her father continues to frustrate and tensions escalate with Cassie, Sharon wonders if leaving it all behind for a life with Johnny will save her crumbling heart.
Will the truth set Sharon free? Or it will it be the final blow to her sobriety?
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