In 1998, two weeks before Christmas, a faulty clock radio cord caused an electrical fire in the bedroom of our 16-year-old daughter, Jamie. Fortunately, Floyd and I were both home when our smoke detector sounded, and so was our son. But our daughters were both at school.
Toby had been living on his own, and Jamie’s dad gave her permission to move into his empty room, so she had been moving her things down the hall to the vacant bedroom. But when Toby came home, he and Floyd hauled her things back to her room and dumped them on her bed and dresser – beautiful lace dresses, expensive porcelain dolls, all her beloved and precious things, some of them irreplaceable like the porcelain doll that Floyd brought her from Germany.
Taking a break from clearing Jamie’s things out of Toby’s room and moving his things back in, Floyd and Toby were downstairs with me when I heard a strange sound coming from upstairs.
“What’s that noise?”
Floyd trotted up the stairs to check it out. It was the smoke detector. “Fire! Fire! Call the fire department and bring me the fire extinguisher!”
I dashed into the kitchen, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and thrust it into my son’s hands. “Run this up to dad.” Our security alarm system automatically dispatched the fire department, so the moment Toby returned, we went outside to wait for them.
Armed with the fire extinguisher, Floyd battled the blaze and extinguished the flames before the fire department arrived. Then he opened the bedroom window and thick black smoke poured out of the room. Our insurance company was grateful because his quick action saved them a lot of money. The fire department would have broken the window that Floyd opened and washed everything down with their fire hose. What the fire didn’t destroy, the water would have damaged. So our insurance company readily forked over the money to repaint the room, and replace the carpet and bed.
Jamie was livid. Her precious things had been safe in the other room until her dad and brother moved them. Now, some of her beautiful dresses smelled of smoke.
As for me, I was thanking the Lord for His blessings.
- Our smoke detector alerted us.
- We had a fire extinguisher handy.
- We were home when the fire started. As a result, property damage was minimal.
- (Our greatest blessing of all.) That electrical cord ran behind Jamie’s bed and caught fire to the sleeping bag that she used on her bed as a comforter. Had the fire started in the middle of the night, our daughter would have woken up on fire. As it was, she was safe at school.
To date, we’ve had two house fires. In both fires, damage was minimal. In both fires, no one was injured. In both fires, God quickly alerted us to the danger. In both fires, God kept the children safe. I believe in the goodness of God.