We of the south-west of Western Australia have lately been suffering from bush fires, mainly started by lightning sent from above. We have witnessed great plumes of smoke billowing aloft as well as spectacular pyrocumulus clouds forming in the sky.
Some have unfortunately lost their homes and belongings. By the grace of God, there have been no lives lost.
Most of the fires have been located a fair distance from us. This morning, however, I awoke to the acrid smell of smoke in my nostrils and throat which sent me into fits of sneezing and coughing.
Apparently there are fires a lot closer to us. One of our bedroom windows was open a little and the smoke was seeping through.
Intrusive, invasive, insidious smoke. It was into everywhere and everything, without any bidding.
I closed the window and took to the living area overlooking the bay. I dared not venture onto the balcony. I could not see the water or the coast. Everything was thick smoky blue-white instead of the usual gentle, light, misty white sea spray.
So much for my good intentions of doing some washing and cleaning my car.
My good intentions for my home: subverted by smoke.
Like my good intentions for my God: subverted by my sin.