Posted on by gettingofftheinterstate

Until the Last Ember

by Donna Poole

Just a few blocks from the hospital the busy traffic narrowed its way into one lane. The huge CAT machine in the other lane hit the road pavement repeatedly with ear splitting noise, breaking it into huge chunks, scooping them into its bucket, raising them high, and dumping them with satisfyingly loud thumps into a waiting semi.

She watched fascinated as the CAT yanked up a big piece of road and dumped it. “Look! It got Morticia! She’s gone.”

He laughed and kept driving.

She prayed in her heart the rest of the way to the hospital. “Make it so, Lord. Let this treatment be the one that works. Yank Morticia out and dump her in a semi somewhere. But I’ll love and bless you either way.”

She’d had been so sick since the last treatment. She hadn’t known if she’d be able to get here today. But God and her medical team had helped her, and here she was, a few blocks from the hospital, where there would be another chance to whisper, “Die, Morticia, die you stubborn lung tumor.”

***

They were camping, the two old lovers. They agreed, silly people that they were, that they much preferred camping in Old Bertha, their 1988 fifth wheel with her perpetual problems, to a cruise, or a trip to Cancun, or Hawaii. Not that they could afford any of those camping alternatives, but even if they could, they’d still pick Bertha.

It had been a satisfying day of short hikes. They were slower on the trails now than they used to be, far slower, but with the health problems they’d both overcome, they thanked God they could still hike at all. They held hands whenever possible. Young lovers should remember life is too short not to hold hands.

They had cooked supper together over the fire in their favorite spot at Brown County State Park, a remote section where it was quiet, and they could be alone. Now they were sitting at a campfire, listening to its love language. A campfire always has words for those who listen.

She was tired and started dozing in her chair.

“It’s getting late, honey, do you want to go inside and go to sleep?”

“Oh, please, no. Let’s stay here until the last ember burns out.”

And so, they did. They kept moving their chairs closer to the fire to share its last warmth, remembering old times, and dreaming new dreams. The stars came out. Finally, shivering but with hearts full of contented gratitude, they put away the camp chairs and went to bed, sleeping the deep sleep that held the promise of many tomorrows together.

***

“Donna, are you still doing okay?” The kind nurse smiled as he looked around the curtain.

“Thank you, Bryant. I’m fine. I guess I fell asleep.”

“That’s okay! You’re here so many hours today. Sleep all you can. Can I get anything for you?”

“No thank you. I’m really fine.”

And she was. Because God would be with her until the last ember burned out, hopefully after many more years of wandering down these backroads, and then a future more beautiful than any dream would begin and never end.

18 Replies to “Until the Last Ember”

    1. Thanks Donna for sharing this lovely message which is a great reminder in the midst of whatever we are facing in life. You are constantly in our prayers. God is with you in it all.

      1. Rachel,
        Thank you. You too certainly know what it is to look to the Lord in suffering and find joy. God bless you and Fred!

  2. So beautifully written, Donna! Your imagery allowed me to be right there with you the entire time.

  4. Thank you Donna. How precious to know the Lord and be assured that none of His will go before the time that HE has chosen for them to be accompanied into HIS presence by one of HIS angels. Each time we would say “Good-bye” to my parents as we headed back to Italy may dad would say, “See you Here, There, or in the Air!” May God bless and give you and John Grace as you travel the path that HE has chosen for you. We love you!

    1. Fred, I love that old saying your dad quoted and think of it often. See you and Rachel here, there, or in the air! I’m sure you and your dad parted with tears. God bless you. We love you.

  5. prayers from here to Heaven and back to you and yours. Divine help is crucial in dire needs. I prefer Bertha style get=aways too but would like to try Hawaii Luau too! lol Ty for sharing -it sparked memories of ’78 gmc camper van in Clinton Co. Pa!

    1. Ron, aren’t memories a wonderful gift? God help you as you adjust to a new way of life and trike to see your mom. May He help her adjust too. It’s not an easy road, but we don’t walk it alone. God bless.

  6. God bless you and John. Because of David and Cheri we do not wander far from home. We appreciate your writings and reflections on God’s truth and His will. “One of these days we’re going to understand the whole thing better…” Love you guys

    1. Joe and Lynn,
      You two have been wonderful parents. We treasure the memories of times together when the kids were all little. Remember camping together up north when you had the camper and we had the leaky tent? Those were the good old days! God bless you and yours.

  7. Donna, prior to my aneurysm, we camped for many years. The campfires at night were simply the best. Your writing brought back beautiful memories of Bill and I sitting around the campfire with my now late brother and sister-in-law. Precious memories that will remain in my heart forever.
    Thank you for being such a blessing, my friend. Love and prayers continue 🙏❤️🙏🏽

    1. Jean,
      How times change our circumstances in ways we’d never have guessed. Life doesn’t get easier, does it? But Jesus gets sweeter. Let’s keep walking each other Home, my friend. We’ll gather there with joy unbroken!

      1. My dear Donna, I can’t think of a better person with whom to walk Home! Yes, when we gather there our joy will know no ending 💗💗

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