Prayers for Black Forest

"Fire is never a gentle master." — Ancient Proverb

I remember last summer hearing about a fire in Colorado Springs. I was about to move here, so I was concerned. I watched news about the Waldo Canyon Fire, but by the time we arrived in late July, the recovery effort began. We heard about what it was like during the fire, but I couldn't really connect in a tangible way.

The Waldo Canyon Fire burn scar, and the rest of the area, have remained a present shadow since that time. As part of my duties here, I wrote a story about the anniversary of the fire. It was a chance to really get a feel for the stories of the people that lived through it, and a chance to better appreciate how tense and scary that time was.

In two weeks we'll make the one year anniversary of that tragic event, but yesterday something new has served as a more chilling reminder. On Tuesday afternoon reports of a fire in Black Forest — a wooded area to the north east of downtown Colorado Springs. By the time I headed home, the giant plum of smoke served as an ominous reminder of the past and a foreboding sign of what's to come.

Watching throughout the evening as the reports of the scale of the fire, its destruction, and the uncertainty of those forced to leave their homes was palpable. In fact, the entire day has been difficult as we wait for news, learn of more evacuations, and hear of friends and co-workers whose homes are in peril.

The winds continue to rage, and the fire continues to burn. I couldn't turn away from the heart-breaking stories on the news, related by friends, and told in the hallways. Tuesday seemed like a normal work day. I can't imagine those who heard in the afternoon there was a fire by their home and were unable to return before the area claimed it. Some who know they lost their homes, their possessions, and their pets. Your heart breaks with each new revelation.

There is a great difference between watching a fire move from a far and having a personal connection, something I have come to realize the past two days.

In early May, my parents visited. They have been searching for a property in the Black Forest region. Going with them was my first opportunity to drive through the area, which is wooded and beautiful. To think that all that area, with it's homes, schools, community, and families might be gone is hard to imagine. It's a reminder of the fragility of life, and the impossibility of trying to control your circumstances.

One of the privileges I had in working on the Waldo Canyon Fire story was interviewing a couple who lost their home during the fire. Their story was moving and compelling, but what moved me most was their powerful faith, which remained unshaken despite all they endured.

Ed told me that God has taken care of him and his wife, Pat, the whole time. Pat echoed that sentiment, saying "He has really walked beside us through this whole time. The Lord has been great through all this. We are so much stronger now, and we'll be able to minister to people in a new way."

Our lives aren't always easy, but we are never alone. God promises that all those hard and uncertain times we endure will build us up for the future. Romans 5:3-5 says, "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

That is God's promise. My heart breaks for those who are in the midst of this time of loss and destruction, and my prayer is the God will do His work in their midst.