Inferno

Billowing black clouds enveloped me in hot waves the moment I opened the door. The blast of heat stunned me for a moment and made the skin on my face tingle uncomfortably.

My barn was on fire. 

I had never seen anything like this before. Long fingers of dancing flames clawed greedily at the walls, the posts, the pine shaving bedding on the barn floor. Flames climbed hungrily to the ceiling. Smoke was escaping through every teensy crack, vent, or window, choking me with greasy fumes. Several chickens escaped out the open door into the fresh cool air, squawking in terror. Through the smoke I could see dead hens lying on the ground inside the barn.

All of this was registered in my mind in a flash, but it felt as if time had slowed down dramatically. 

My heart leaped into action, surging energizing adrenaline through my veins. I dropped my basket of eggs and ran frantically for the garden hose, which was located far away on the other side of the yard. I was wearing my favorite white skirt, and it severely impeded my rapid sprint to retrieve the hose from our garden plot. With a growl of frustration, I gathered my skirt in my arms and held it high above my waist, allowing my legs to freely move in long strides. I didn't care if anyone saw me flashing my underwear to the world. 

I threw the hose over my shoulder and hauled it quickly to the barn before racing full tilt to the faucet and turning it on full blast. All I could think of were the new chicks that were supposed to hatch today, and the dedicated broody hens who had sat so faithfully all month on their eggs. They were trapped in the fiery furnace that my barn had become. 

Spraying water deep into the burning recesses of the barn, I thought this fire must be an electrical fire. I was too scared to step into the barn since water was now covering the ground... I didn't want to have any chance of electrocution. Some flames were too far back inside the barn for me to reach. I didn't know where to shut off the power, and needed help.

Once again hitching my skirt high, I raced to the back door of our house, threw open the door, and burst into a quiet scene of domestic bliss.  We had several friends over for a lovely Sunday breakfast of homemade crepes. I must have looked like a crazy lady as I half-gasped, half-shouted: "Nathan! The barn's on fire! Please help!" Without waiting for a response, I dashed away again to renew the battle with the flames.

Nathan barreled full speed around the corner of the house in his Sunday suit, coming to the rescue. Friends watched helplessly with me while Nathan manned our only hose and fought the flames. 

After several minutes of nervous effort, the flames were finally extinguished. The hot wood crackled and steam billowed from the stall walls. Left behind was a smoking barn, covered in thick soot from top to bottom. The wood floor was completely burned through, and wooden stalls were eaten by the flames.

Garden tools were completely destroyed. Have you ever seen a melted leaf-blower? Let me tell you, the puddle of melted plastic looked neato-frito. Water pipes suspended from the ceiling were melted and draped across the stalls in sagging black arches. 

My seedling flats full of over a hundred plants disintegrated in the heat. Not a leaf was left. The grow light hung crazily at an angle over melted plastic trays. Sigh. I had nursed those seedlings so carefully every day for 6 weeks, and they were gone in an instant.

With a sudden stab of apprehension, I remembered our batches of new chicks and incubating eggs. We had eagerly awaited the hatchlings for weeks. I thought perhaps I could wash the soot off the eggs and save the hatching chicks, but the moment I touched the clutch of eggs I knew it was too late. The black eggs were hot to the touch and burned my fingers. My heart broke when I saw little beaks sticking out through the first holes in the shells. They were taking their first breaths of air when the fire happened. I mourned their deaths and felt a terrible accountability to God for these lost lives. My heart was weighed heavily with their deaths. 

Later, when the smoke had dissipated, we came back to begin the cleaning. 

See the black stump in the top of the picture? that used to be a large wall support and a wooden wall....

Pictures were hard to take inside the barn- the black soot soaks up all the light from my flash and doesn't reflect anything back. The only thing you can see here is the ceiling fan- everything else is coated in soot.

Luckily most of our adult birds escaped into the yard and were only scared, not damaged. 

At first I felt tremendous loss with this fire, but the Lord quickly showed me the blessings and tender mercies that occurred.

First off- it was a miracle that I discovered the fire in the first place. I don't normally go out to the chicken coop so early in the morning and it would have been hours before I went outside if I followed my regular pattern of behavior. If the fire had burned much longer, it would have caught our house on fire since the buildings are quite close to each other. I'm so thankful the fire was contained to only our barn!

Second- There were three large plastic containers of gasoline stored in the barn, less than ten feet away from the fire source. (You can see one of them in the first picture, it's red.) By the time we reached them, the plastic containers were hot and bubbled from heat. They were melting. If the flames had burned just minutes more, we would have had a serious explosion on our hands!

Third- The barn floor was covered 6 inches deep with pine shaving bedding. Have you ever watched pine burn? It's extremely flammable. Here we had a perfect tinderbox waiting to feed the flames. We should have lost our entire barn with this stuff on the ground. Miraculously the water pipes melted and leaked water all over the ground, wetting the bedding and confining the fire before the flames could get out of control. There shouldn't have been water in those pipes because we had turned off the water supply to the barn years ago.

It could have been devastatingly much worse, and I was left feeling extremely grateful for the hidden blessings that I saw. The Lord is good and watched over us even in this unexpected mishap. Once again, I was powerfully reminded of the transitory state of life and our possessions. Once again, I treasured my children more today and held fast to the things that are eternal.

When a sweet friend learned that my seedlings burned, she generously gave me over a dozen tomato and pepper seedlings from her own garden to restart our garden. I was so touched by her thoughtfulness. Life continues, and we are rebuilding our barn.

Even when surrounded with ashes, life is still beautiful. That is the wondrous beauty of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It allows us to feel peace regardless of any earthly setbacks. We are still happy, and I treasure the comfort I find in the Savior.