Send the Fire

By David Hobbs

Telling the following story will undoubtedly open me up to much criticism such as “God doesn’t do that! What’s the point? How do you explain . . .?”
So let me start out by saying I am just relating what happened, not trying to explain it, justify it, make it fit into somebody’s theology, or in any other way try to tweak it to make it acceptable to the church or the world. This is just what happened, no more, no less!
One night at the end of a glorious three hours of prayer at the church, I was sitting on a chair in the lobby, waiting out the final minutes before calling Darlene, who was next on the prayer chain. Not wanting to call too soon (lest she still be in the process of getting up, dressed, and ready) was a good reason to sit for a few minutes basking in the afterglow of a great prayer time. I was sitting there totally relaxed and warmed by the glow of the Lord's presence, when, without thinking, I prayed in an idle fashion, “Lord, send your fire.”
I continued to sit there for another few minutes when in the distance I heard the far-off wail of a siren. Sunday morning at 5 a.m. is one of the deadest times of the week, so any sound was surprising. Still, emergency vehicles often go by the church on the freeway so I didn’t think much about it. However, it kept getting closer and closer, and didn’t sound like an ambulance or the Highway Patrol. I rallied myself, got up and went to the glass front doors to investigate. Sure enough, a fire truck pulled up to Eager Rd. from the freeway frontage road--lights flashing and siren blaring--turned in front of the church and went up over the freeway overpass on Eager Rd. “Huh!” I thought, “now that’s unusual for this time of the morning.” I sat back down, but within a few minutes I heard another siren off in the distance. “Another one coming here also?” Sure enough, the siren increased in intensity until another fire truck arrived along the same route, turned and went past the church and up over the freeway. By this time I figured I better see what was going on. I walked around the church to the freeway side. There was a huge fire burning! It was just across the freeway in an orchard with a fruit-packing plant. The fire was so close I could feel the radiant heat from the flames on my face.
I watched for awhile, then called Darlene and told her excitedly how I’d called down fire from heaven! Finally I returned home to sleep. Later Sunday afternoon I returned to the scene to see if I could find out what had really happened. There were still wet spots on the ground where the hoses had leaked water, and tracks in the sand where the fire trucks had parked. But I couldn’t find anything that had burned. The buildings of the plant were still there. I figured maybe it was a stack of wooden fruit bins, which can be piled over ten feet tall.
“God obviously has a sense of humor,” I thought. “He certainly answered that prayer, and quickly!”
I believe He did it as a sign: “I’m listening; I hear you; keep praying.” Other interpretations may vary.