I've Seen Fire And I've Seen A Flooded Basement

September 9, 2014

We’ve all had them. The days that make you just look up at the sky (because that’s where God lives, duh) and say “Really God? Really??” I just had a weekend like that.

First though, I was talking to a friend a few weeks back and lamenting how I just need a win. That if someone told me to literally climb a mountain and all my pain and heartache would ‘poof!’ disappear, I would do it without a second thought. Her suggestion was to find small goals instead. Finish those small goals, feel great about them, and let them snowball into bigger goals and bigger successes.

So, this weekend my boys were with their dad  and I decided it was a good time to do something I’ve been thinking about for a little while. If you know me, I tend to be dramatic sometimes (I know, shocker) and I love symbolism, like love it. I decided Friday night was a good time to burn my 10 year old wedding bouquet. I’ve had it for a decade, in a vase on a shelf gathering dust.

I felt this would be the perfect symbol of what I’m going through. A cleansing moment. Another step towards closure. And a definite little goal that I could count as a success. A baby-step success.

I set up the fire pit that was still sitting in it’s box in the garage. Grabbed the bouquet, matches, a shot of vodka (for me) a shot of kerosene (for the flowers) and a glass of water in case the dust covered deceased flowers decided to explode.

I sat in my dark back yard and took a deep breath. Ok God, I thought, this is going to mean something. This is big for me, to destroy something that was supposed to hold such wonderful and meaningful memories.

I poured some kerosene over the flowers and lit a match. And then about 6 more, it was a windy night. But I wasn’t going to let that stop my dramatic moment. Finally the match hit a mixture of the dried leaves and kerosene and went up in flames. Big ones. There aren’t a lot of fire pits on my block and with neighbors very close on every side I imagined one of them looking outside and thinking something was on fire and calling the fire department. Shit, this wasn’t what I was supposed to be thinking about while I was trying to have such a momentous moment. (Although, maybe I’d meet a cute fireman? No, back to task at hand). I decided to risk it and let the roses burn. Then I noticed my ankles start itching. Damn it, I forgot how much the mosquitos love me and how many there are in my backyard. Ok, it’s ok, keep staring at the burning symbol of a marriage that wasn’t worth working on. Yes, focus on your marriage and desires to still be married, going up in smoke. Let it burn up that part of my heart as well. Shit, another mosquito bite. Focus Sarah. I looked up to the sky to address God. “I’ve done it God, I showed you, myself and the universe that I know there is no going back. Just by burning these dead flowers, I’ve showed that I’m moving on. Please take note.”

The whole thing lasted no more than 5 minutes. I let out a sigh. Tried to soak in some more of the gravitas of the occasion and called it a night. But not before slathering my ankles in Cortizone 10. God damn moment ruining skeeters. They probably gave me west nile.

The next morning my parents were going to come over to help me purge, clean and organize my hoard of a basement. There had been some water in there the night before but it didn’t look like much and I assumed the recent rain had caused it, which it frequently does. But Saturday morning when I woke up and checked on the water it had grown (does water grow?). At least half a foot covered the whole basement and anything that was on the floor was absolutely soaking. I called my parents to tell them the clean up was off but now an emergency was on.

While I waited for them to come over I shot a glance at God. Really? This is happening now? I’m trying to get my life and my surroundings in order and THIS happens?

My parents rented a sump pump, my dad turned off the water to the house and we waited for the water to come down enough to figure out what the hell happened. As we waited, my parents (who can’t sit still to save their lives) started cleaning up my back yard. Then my brother came over and joined in. As the water was being pumped out of the basement we (and by we, I mean they) pruned, cleaned, weeded and swept my front and back yards. Because they are maniacs. And amazing. We (they) took a break and for the 3rd time in two days I looked up to the sky again. Ok God, what is it I’m not learning? When will it end? When will it change? If I could get a hint on why this will benefit me in the long run that would really help me hold on, (which I know defeats the purpose of faith but COME ON!) How are you going to use this for good? How are you going to get us out of this one?  I don’t believe that God punishes for past sins, but shit, I have a lot of past sins so it’s not a far stretch to think he’s getting in some retribution…

My Dad, ever the D. Min., looked at me and said “Maybe the lesson is just how we are going to react in this moment, rather than a long term reason”. And that’s it isn’t it? I am always trying to figure out how I’m going to survive something or when it’s going to get better or what the reason is for trials. Maybe it’s just God wanting to see how we react during the trial and not waiting for the trial to be done. I mean we all know that but in the midst of it, it’s hard to remember. We all forgot it on Saturday as we were stressing over all the work and mess and money involved.

Maybe that stupid broken water heater (which is what the reason turned out to be) and the ensuing clean up and headache will actually be another baby-step success for me. God has been continually reminding me this year how little I really rely on him. How little trust I really have in him. So maybe the trial isn’t how are we going to get a new water heater and how will I clean it all up, but instead it’s how much will I trust that God will take care of me, of us.

I need to remember that just like my marriage died a slow death due to disinterest, silence and depression my journey towards getting over heartbreak might be just as slow. But this time each step will be deliberate, celebrated and encouraging.