The inferno

Every October, our church has a hayride/bonfire for the adults. The wagon chugs down little traveled country roads, while we sing old songs (many that I don't even know!) and watch for deer or any other wildlife not frightened away by our noise. When the hay wagon finally returns to the barn, we all gather in a field around a 3-story pile of wood... there is a moment of silence as we listen for the "whoosh" and then, wow, the mother of all bonfires dances before our eyes.

Everyone loves the fire. They look forward to it and back upon it with great appreciation for the skill required to build such an inferno.

What they don't know, is long before the cornstalks begin their dry rustle,


... "inferno fever" sets in here at home.

Far behind our house, tucked in the midst of some trees, a column of broken pallets begins to grow. My dearly beloved, the inferno master, says he needs "125, but I could get by with 100."

He spends hours searching out the free fuel, loading it into his trailer, all the while picturing the expectant crowd... anticipating the "whoosh".


It's a lot of pressure for a working man... but he wears the title, "inferno master", with great joy.

There are things you do because you have to.
There are things you do because you should.
And then there are the things that embody the utter joy of being alive!

The bonfire is in 12 days. We'll have video... maybe you'll get to hear the "whoosh".

For God giveth to a man that is good in his sight wisdom, and knowledge, and joy... Ecclesiastes 2:26