In a Flash

So yesterday a wildfire erupted in Fourmile Canyon in western Boulder County, less than 20 miles from our home in northwestern Westminster. Within a few short hours a ginormous wall of dark smoke loomed from the north and stretched as far as the eye could see, from the Boulder flatirons clear to the east. It ominously hung in the sky all afternoon as the blaze continued to burn out of control. As soon as the wind died down enough in the evening, air tankers took off from the Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport just behind our home to help combat the fire.

It's just amazing to me how perspective can change everything. Yesterday was absolutely GORGEOUS: we saw blue skies, bright sunshine, and comfortable temperatures with a cool breeze; yet for the folks in Fourmile Canyon, it was a nightmare--the perfect conditions to allow a single flame to quickly grow into an out-of-control, super-intense wildfire. While I was out running and enjoying everything around me (including an incredibly beautiful, orange sunset behind the mountains), there were people less than 20 miles from me scrambling to gather what they could and make it down the mountain alive. They say that the roar of the fire moving its way through the trees sounded eerily like a jet engine, and that some folks had to "drive through a wall of fire" to get out of their driveways. Some only had a few moments to spare to grab themselves and their pets in order to escape the blaze; while others had a few minutes more to throw a few precious items into their vehicles before fleeing. I can only imagine the panic those people must have felt, and how it must have torn their hearts as they looked back on their homes one last time to know they most likely would never see them again. Incredible.

This gets me thinking . . . what would I take if I only had a few moments to spare? What "things" are most important to me, and which ones (if any) would I give the most priority to save?

Our passports and social security cards? Nice to have, yes, but totally replaceable.
Our marriage license? Filed at the county; replaceable.
Jewelry? I don't own much, but I would probably try to grab what heirloom pieces I could, including gifts passed down from family members including my engagement ring (from Raleigh's grandmother), the rings given to me by my grandmother (given to her by my grandfather), my dad's class ring and my mom's class key, etc. (And if Raleigh's wedding ring wasn't on his finger, I'd grab that too.)
Some of our favorite photos from the wall? Nice to have, but in a hurry, would grabbing large, framed prints really be feasible? And all in all, replaceable.
Some of my photo albums and loose photos, of the non-replaceable variety? Nice to have, but again, not really sure it'd be feasible to grab them. They are heavy and awkward to carry. And in the end, I'm not really sure they'd be the most important thing(s) I'd want to take with me.

Truth of the matter is, I could live without ANY of these things as they are just that--things. Nice to have, yes, and definitely sentimental in meaning. But are they live-giving or life-sustaining? No. If I had to go on without them, I could.

Yet even as I acknowledge this here and know this to be true, why do I continue to place such value on all my "stuff", on the items which I wholeheartedly know my happiness does not depend? In some ways, it almost seems silly--thinking of what things I'd want to take with me if I could . . . does any of it really matter? I think in the end, it does not.

As long as I have Raleigh by my side and God walking with us both along the way, I know I can endure any journey . . . even one as horrific as that the folks in Boulder started experiencing yesterday.

My heart and prayers are with our dear neighbors today, who no matter the status of their physical home, must continue on today in a way very different from before.