The Refining Fire, The Lancaster Oasis, and the Wisdom of the Soil
When we hear the word fire in religious circles, the modern systems of “fear porn” instantly program us to run for cover. They paint a terrifying picture of an angry, destructive furnace designed to consume our peace. But the true gospel script reveals a beautiful secret: the consuming fire of God is actually the Holy Spirt--a relentless purifying heat of pure love that enters our lives not to destroy us but to burn away our fear, our limitations, and our despair.
The spring of 1984 as a family we all experienced the refining fire, that was burning “big time” inside my household. My household consisted of myself, my husband and my daughter and son, 5 and 3 in the same order, and my Father and Mother all living in a house purchased with the help of my parents just before my mother’s stroke. I always called it divine provision before the crisis that changed all our lives.
We were getting used to the daily routines and needs of recovery as my mother was discharged six months after her stroke to come home to my house so I could be her 24/7 caregiver and still take care of my young children. She came home with a permanent tracheostomy, suctioning machine, nebulizer, a gastrostomy feeding tube, diabetic equipment, a wheelchair, and walker for ambulation and a daughter who had learned at her bedside the nursing skills needed as my degree was a BS in education not nursing! Challenges were big, and new every day and at every turn, but our attitude was from Dr Robert H Schuller’s famous quote:
Inch by Inch anything’s a cinch; yard by yard is hard!
From a note in her own handwriting pinned on a quilt she was making before her stroke. She would repeat it as she was trying to complete that quilt! She was the “can do” lady!
One day out of the blue my father showed up with a beautiful brand-new light blue 1984 GMC Vandura Van that I found similar images on the internet, it was gorgeous as my mother wrote on a piece of paper…”Classsssseeeeeee”
Next thing I knew we were all packed in together plus all the equipment for my mother not to mention equipment needed for toddlers, heading south to see the Amish in Lancaster Pa, a place we often visited growing up. Four adults, two children and a red-haired toy French Poodle Amber, proudly sitting on Sarah Tucker’s lap in the front seat with full view in what became named… Tucker Inn on Wheels. Some of you may remember the famous cool whip adds for Sara Tucker at Tucker Inn, well my mother became known as the “real Sarah Tucker with an H of the real Tucker Inn!”
That weekend trip to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, wasn’t just a vacation. It was a 48-hour container of pure grace–a raw, beautiful oasis dropped right into a grueling landscape so everyone could take a deep, unhurried breath. We stayed in a cabin by the road in a park that had all kinds of camping and activities you could imagine. The camp and surrounding farm and road were a catch all of different centuries peacefully bumping into each other. On one side sat high-end 5th wheel rigs each looking similar to these images…
These were high-end modern show-dog rigs with giant French Poodles and parked right next to them was a genuine covered wagon full of a family moving to Tennessee. The covered wagon had all their possessions, including flower baskets on the sides of the wagon.
There was a local yard sale surrounded by horse-drawn buggies, one of the Amish women was running her entire cash register out of none other than a bright, plastic Tupperware container! Around dinner time came a couple of Amish women pulling their wagons full of all their baked goods they made during the day to sell to the visitors in the park. They sure knew how to make those famous Shoofly Pies and homemade yeast breads, apple and blueberry muffins as well. A beautiful selection made with the Amish love.
I have never forgotten the smells and sounds of a whole different world and lying in bed in the early morning before dawn hearing the steady, rhythmic clip-clop cadence of the horses pacing by on the pavement outside. It was a timeless, comforting rhythm. It was the sound of peace. We had been through so much, we were given so much, really are no words to describe those 48 hours except it was unforgettable.
I recently was watching an Amish gardening podcast that got me remembering this trip. They shared the key Amish mindset:
Work with what you have, build soil, observe your plants, and save the best seeds.
That is exactly what the refining fire does. It teaches you how to work with the blue van you have. It builds deep, rich caregiver soil out of the ashes of a crisis. It forces you to closely observe the quiet patterns of love in your family–like catching your 5-year-old daughter with grandma and their heads together as Amber got her nails painted a bright red color! And their innocent looks when caught! Those moments refine your heart so you can save the absolute best seeds of memory to plant in the world today.
The machinery of a medical crisis or the changing rules of a chaotic world never have the power to steal you class or your joy. The fire isn’t there to break you; it is a relentless, purifying heat of pure love, to burn away our fear, our limitations, and our despair, leaving you standing as an unshakeable iron pillar, fully alive and deeply grateful for the gift of every single day.
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