My childhood family called them “East Winds,” and they began blowing in earnest off the California desert and over to our coastal city each September. My brother usually detected the winds days ahead of their arrival. When his eyes suddenly appeared red and watery, and he complained of a continually stuffy nose, my mom would say, “The East Winds are on their way!”
Large single-paned windows stretched across the front of my bedroom and I have countless early morning memories of waking to see the curtains gently moving to the warm, rhythmic gusts of air seeping in from the outside. I knew the winds meant cotton blouses, running around the playground with our arms flapping in the breeze, a trip to Foster’s Freeze for a chocolate-dipped cone, and cleaning up lawns littered with debris.
The winds triggered slight worry for my parents.
Our modest home backed up to a barranca, a Spanish word for deep gully, carved by rain water running off the local foothills and down to the ocean over a period of thousands of years. Many homeowners prefer a barranca, for they are usually lined in tall eucalyptus trees and include a seasonal stream. They choose this natural barricade to a behind-the-back-fence neighbor, even though these gullies can dry up and ignite if people are careless during the dry season. Eucalyptus trees dry quickly when there is wind but retain their natural oils. Intense heat from a fire can cause them to explode and frequently accelerate fire already whipped by East Winds.
The year the foothills near my home caught fire came to mind this week when I learned that the editor of The Old Farmer’s Almanac, considered a reliable source for long-range weather planning since 1792, predicts an especially dry and warm 2008. That year my dad was acting principal of the nearby high school and stayed with several hundred students evacuated to the school when the foothill fire sprang up, dangerously near our city’s primary barranca.
Without him, but in my mother’s able hands, we put our fire emergency plan into action. We packed the car with basic clothing, family photos, my mother’s silver, and keepsakes. My brother was thrilled to be able to stand up on the roof to water the shingles and we stayed in direct contact with firemen, stationed up the street, who worked diligently to keep the fire from leaping from the foothills and over to our barranca.
The air was sooty and stinky. The sun, obscured by the smoke, took on a strange, other worldly appearance. We could hear popping as dry trees and brush nearby caught fire. Heat generated by the flames intensified when we walked to the top of our street to get a closer look.
But the fire never made its way to our barranca. We eventually unloaded the car and my exhausted daddy finally came home with tales of his time spent couped up with worried teenagers.
While I don’t have dry wind and a barranca to contend with this September, I have put out a few fires of my own this week, fanned most often by careless rather than faithful living. God calls us to get along with each other and one of the best ways to do that is to simply stop trying to win arguments.
God calls us to focus on loving those around us—to aim for love, rather than to aim for a victory.
When we find ourselves embroiled in a disagreement, God offers us some helpful strategies for dousing the fire rather than fanning the flames.
1. Let God determine the truth and give less power to feelings. In First Corinthians 1 you’ll find practical advice that includes stopping in mid-argument and seeking God’s wisdom. This foundation will often shorten conflict if you both agree to God’s truth.
2. Choose a merciful response rather than focusing your attention on identifying what seems fair. Let Romans 5:8 and Proverbs be your guide here. Surprise people with an unpredictable reaction that can only come from God’s strength and wisdom that you’re putting to good use.
3. Look for God’s presence, for he draws near to us in conflict and in peace. What are the subtle signs that he’s near? What does God want us to learn from the struggle?
4. Put down the usual human weapons that frequently include silence, blame, threats, nagging, sarcasm, and ridicule. Regardless of the heat of the moment, take a breath and stop. Choose love then,
5. Pick up a spiritual weapon instead. These include patience, tolerance, prayer, forgiveness, balance, understanding, hope, perseverance, strength, and trust.
Let’s make it a point this week to cool sparks so when the winds blow and the fire heats up, our words and actions can stop destruction in its tracks. Let’s choose love rather than victory.
