Larry Siegel and Burt Hartley were out there with their machines, putting in the leach field for the septic system.
And all of a sudden I saw something that scared me.
In between the one machine and the other I saw a fire!
It had started in the grass!
And no one was noticing but me!
Just the day before, we had seen smoke on our way home from Pierre. That dark smoke was billowing so badly that we were sure that someone had to have called in about the fire already.
But the closer we got, realizing how desolate the area was there, Jonathan decided to call fire chief Keith Lavery and ask if he should call it in.
"When in doubt," Keith said, "call 911."
If someone has already called the fire in, it won't hurt anything.
But in fact, when Jonathan called in, it didn't sound like anyone else had called in yet!
Soon we saw and heard an emergency vehicle headed down the road, siren blaring. Later we learned that the fire was successfully out.
Now it was my turn!
I must alert my guys to the fire their machines must have started!
There was just one trouble!
Neither Jonathan nor John Holderbaum who was with him could see the fire!
"It's right there!" I pointed. "Right between the machines!"
Jonathan still couldn't see it.
"That flame!" I said helplessly. Why could he not see it?
"It's a flag!" Jonathan said. His eyes rolled slightly. "You need your glasses!" he added a little scornfully.
And what could I say?
It was true. It was a flag, and I needed to go get my glasses on.
I had been so sure it was a flame!
It was even flickering!
But come to find out, it was just a little orange flag the men had planted in the ground to mark where the trenches should be dug,
just like the other orange flags along the driveway, marking where to grade and level.
There it was, waving in the breeze, and I thought it was a flame flickering, about to start a grass fire!
I would have been greatly embarrassed if I had not learned to laugh at myself a long time ago.
And I didn't think much more about it until I opened some mail that my son Sam had brought with him up from Colorado when he brought the horse trailer up with our steer.
In the pile of envelopes was a card from our pastor and his wife, letting us know they were praying for us.
And inside the card was printed this verse, "When thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee."
The reference had been underlined, "Isaiah 43:2, KJV"
And just like that, I thought about the fire I had seen, or rather, thought I saw.
God's promise was that when we walk through the fire, we shall not be burned.
Neither shall the flame kindle upon us.
It may flicker and flash and crackle, but it will not kindle upon us.
Just like the fake fire I saw in the field, it will be as if it wasn't even a fire at all.
Just an orange flag flickering in the breeze.
I am taking that as a promise for myself in these days of uncertainty about my physical condition and uncertainty about many other things as well.
The devil may want to start fires and billow smoke and scare us half to death,
but God has promised that we shall not be burned,
nor shall the fire kindle upon us.
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