Praying for Prescott

 

My daughter spent a couple of summers on a firefighting crew. I’ll be honest, it terrified me. The forests on these mountains surrounding us are dense. I’ve seen how one lightening strike can set a mountain afire.  I lived in a small valley town where the entire community rallied around those fighting the fires on the mountains, where every morning was greeted with, “How are the firefighters doing today?”  My son-in-law worked on a hot shot crew. I know how fearless he can be in the face of what I, at least, would consider dangerous pursuits.

God makes us all differently for a purpose. We need people who are willing risk-takers. These are the people who protect us, day in and day out, without thought to their own personal sacrifices.

I have been on the scene of many a fire as a reporter. Once terrible day I had two major fires going at separate ends of town. An arson fire at the playground and a timber fire at the Boise-Cascade plant. I did not get home until 3 a.m. but as I drove towards home all I could think about was that those firefighters weren’t going home. They were still working the fire.

I have this awful terrible memory that will, I realize now, never leave me no matter how old I grow. And that is the memory of the complete dark void that was left imprinted upon me by the death of my own father when I was only nine.

That’s what I think about when I think of those nineteen firefighters from Prescott, Az.

The black emptiness of a life without.

There is nothing — not even the tender love of God — that takes away that dark emptiness.  And if you have lost someone precious, at any age, you understand that.

That’s why the prayers of friends and loved ones matter so much. We all need someone willing to sit with us in our darkness. Someone willing to reach out and grasp our hand and say, “You are not alone in this. I am right here and I’m going to stay right here beside you, no matter how dark life may seem. I’m staying with you until morning light breaks.”

I have been surrounded by praying people throughout my life.

I don’t know all the names of the people who prayed for me, but I know that without those prayers I would not be here writing to you about all of this. I might not have been here at all, without those prayers.

The day Mama learned Daddy was dead, she contemplated taking her own life. It was a friend who talked her through that dark moment. A friend who came alongside her and urged her to think beyond the moment. A friend who sat with my mother in the darkness.

There were 19 firefighters who lost their lives. Each of those nineteen firefighters had a mother and a father. Maybe stepmothers, stepfathers. Siblings. Aunts and uncles, grandparents, and cousins. Some had girlfriends. Some had wives. Some had children.

Children who woke up this morning to an emptiness they can’t quite comprehend but one that will shadow them throughout their lives.

Would you pick just one name off that firefighter list and commit to pray for that young man’s family from here forward, for the rest of your life, for as long as you have breath? Will you pray for that man’s loved ones? Would you be willing to sit in the dark with them until the light of a new dawn?

Nothing, and I mean nothing, changes the dynamics of grief like prayer. 

 

 

 

 

 

About Karen Spears Zacharias

Author. Speaker. Journalism Instructor. Four kids. Three dogs. One grandson.

  • Gloria

    I am in! I commit right here to do this. I will be praying for the family of the firefighter that left behind 4 children all under the age of six. I was thinking of you this morning as I heard his widow speak so bravely of not only her loss but the community’s loss. She spoke of many of the same emotions that you have articulated here and in your book about your loss. She spoke of how this team was a family and how they died as they lived, loving each other and standing between the fire and their community. May God hold all of these families and their community in His loving arms and let them know He is with them always.

    • http://karenzach.com Karen Spears Zacharias

      Thank you, Gloria.

  • Sharon O

    One of those guys is from Oregon the news showed him last night, and I think his home town was West Linn. So sad… I cannot imagine the sadness. One of them had four little kids, at home. I am praying for all involved especially the one who survived. (all died but one)

    • http://karenzach.com Karen Spears Zacharias

      Yes, the one who survived needs our prayers, too.

  • John in PDX

    Godspeed, John Percin, Jr. I am praying for your father. I enjoyed our time together.
    Regards,
    John in PDX

    • http://karenzach.com Karen Spears Zacharias

      Oh, John, did you know this young man & his father?

      • John in PDX

        Yes and the family. It sucks.
        Hugs for all your children. I can’t even imagine the pain.
        Regards,
        John in PDX

        • John in PDX

          John jr was a wonderful young man that had purpose in his life. I hope all of us achieve what he did.
          Regards,
          John in PDX

          • http://karenzach.com Karen Spears Zacharias

            John: Please give his father our sympathies, and tell him that we are all praying here, sitting with them in their darkness.

  • Laurie

    Thank you Karen!

    I have three sons. They are all fire fighters. My oldest son Landon works for Cal Fire, my middle son Dennis volunteers at Peardale Chicago Park Volunteer Fire Department, and my youngest son Steven also volunteers at Peardale Chicago Park Volunteer Fire Department. Not only do these brave men respond to fires, but they also respond to help the victims of car accidents and medical emergencies.

    I will commit to pray for these families. God bless them all! I can’t imagine their pain!

    “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.”
    John 15:13

    • http://karenzach.com Karen Spears Zacharias

      Laurie: How your heart must hurt for these families, as someone who intimately knows the risk, day in and day out. Hug your sons for me. Tell them how thankful we are for the job they do. And thank you for your commitment to pray for these families.

  • AFRoger

    Praying. The flag went to half staff, too. Sorry for your loss, John, and all the other friends and families as well. God’s peace.

  • LorenHaas

    My firefighter son is 29, the same age as Andrew Ashcraft. I will pray for his family as I pray for my own son Daniel.

  • Gary Nelson

    Praying for them all. The one who survived especially. So sad for all of the families! May God be with them and comfort them all.


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