Last night it was chilly, both guys were out and about, so the cat and I curled up by a fire to read. I did a lot of hauling of wood in from the wood pile at Eastern Point, mostly because I enjoyed sitting in front of it and knitting a bit each evening before bed. And I learned, entirely by watching, how to build a fire that would draft well on a very cold night. Lorcan, an Irish priest making the Exercises had the trick of it. Careful stacking of the wood. Lots of kindling and paper, so the pile would go up with a "whoosh"and the subsequent draft would provide a punch of oxygen that would keep the initial combustion going.
Last night I carefully built my fire, touch a match to it and watched it burst into exuberant flame. Then I stopped and prayed for all those who carefully hauled the wood, stacked the logs, arranged the kindling in my heart and soul and to the One who set it all aflame with a single touch, one dark night in Eastern Point's chapel.
What an interesting "coincidence" that I had just finished thanking God for the priests and so many others who have gently led me along the way since I have embraced the Catholic expression of the Christian faith - and for all of those in my earlier life who have influenced my journey. I appreciate how you have expressed this so creatively in the building of the fire which was lit by the One who came into this world because of love for each of us. Thank you for sharing this so beautifully.
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