Vacation and a Well-Constructed Fire

Before knowing I would even be in a position to accept a job offer, Andrea and I had planned to vacation immediately after the school year ended for a few reasons.  I figured that I would be borderline miserable as the school year concluded, and I think that would have held up if I wasn't interviewing once or twice a week.  Also, I figured if I did happen to land a job, we would have to move quickly and definitely in August.  So taking some time to relax in the first of week of July seemed appropriate.

It took us all of about 20 seconds to figure out where we wanted to go.  The cottage on Cayuga Lake was the obvious choice because it is isolated from a lot of things that get us both distracted and/or annoyed.  A quiet location, by water, and doesn’t have access to the Internet. 

Turns out, we couldn’t have picked a better time either.  The weather was beautiful and allowed for excessive outdoor activity.  Evelyn, who normally gets about an hour or two (at most) of outdoor time at home, was outside for almost all her time barring eating and sleeping.  She enjoyed throwing rocks into the lake, kicking balls inside and outside the house, wading in the water with anyone who will take her out, and going on long walks up and down the private road.  Andrea made amazing breakfasts and dinners and I picked up where I left off last summer regarding my delicious grilling.  Andrea and I even managed to get a few dates in there, and capped it all off with a beautiful wedding ceremony of one of my closest high school friends.

A month or two before I had secured the job, I promised myself that I would have an overly dramatic “finalization event” of some sort that would landmark the finality of Vestal and the beginning of a new (and better) era.  With everything falling into place right before vacation, it quickly came to me that a proper “Burning of the Documents” would be perfect.  (For reference: The Documents were the collection of papers created by Vestal administrators that ultimately justified their belief that I should be denied tenure.)  The cottage already has a place for bonfires, so I just had to obtain some wood to burn.  Although it would be much easier to find someone giving away free wood, or simply buy some bundled wood, I felt it more appropriate if I procure the wood by my own sweat.  Over the past few years, I’ve noticed that the sand on the beach and the water was littered with driftwood.  So I spent the first few days of vacation rescuing driftwood from their watery depths and laying them out to dry on the dock. 

In the morning on the day of the “Burning of the Documents,” I carefully constructed the wood that I had collected into a respectable cabin-like arrangement.  As I was doing so, I thought of all those alters that people in the Old Testament made by hand.  Although my sacrifice wasn't nearly as impressive, it still takes a lot of work and time and thought to make.  In that sense, I suppose the process of building such an alter is also an act of devotion and worship that can be even more therapeutic and sanctifying than the burning of the offering itself.

Watching the fires burn away the papers I have grown to detest was deeply satisfying for me.  And even though those papers don’t have any physical existence anymore (except in some forsaken corner of the administrative building), they still have greatly changed many people’s lives.  But the whole reason I wanted this fire was to remind me that this was something painful, but it was also being removed from my life; akin to the way God purges us of our sin.  Of course, the result of our sin carries with us the rest of our lives.  But by same act of grace, God doesn't see that in us.  And when our final day comes, those who trust God can be found without blame or fault.  Certainly not by our own doings, but rather our holiness comes solely from the flames of purification that only God controls.  In this, ultimately, I will find my final rest, and I won't have to build the fire myself either.