A Little Up the Trail

Last night I got invited to go up to a bonfire in the hills with some friends. There were maybe thirty of us there, and I didn’t know half of them. But it was one of those beautiful sights that you hope you don’t forget because it makes you wonder about things bigger than yourself. I’m telling you, the sky was black and the stars were small, but the air was fresh. The fire was bright and hot and you could feel its warmth straight on your skin even though everyone was wearing a jacket. When the branches would shift or pop, sparks would burst out like fireflies and then slowly fade to white ash that fell in your hair like snow. The coals pulsed with the heat at the base, and there were a couple burned marshmallows that had sadly lost their way from the roasting stick. Everyone was talking but not too loud. If you looked to the west you would see the sparse lighting of Snow campus, and if you looked anywhere else you saw the black outline of mountains and trees that were only there if you were really focused. Except there was one tiny yellow light up ahead—someone else’s fire a little up the trail. The stone was cool, the heat permanent, and it was all around a beautiful scene. I just breathed in and out and looked up for a while, enjoying this half-heaven. 

Sometimes we wonder why life is so difficult. The journey is long and dotted with challenges for all of us. Sometimes the stress of it all is stifling. And then sometimes God grants us a perfect moment, just because. Life is a wondrous thing, after all is said and done, I think. It just takes a step back to see it.