And I felt much better.
And then I tripped over the gas can that I had carefully set away from the fire. And then I thought I should probably do something about the gas that had spilled on the lawn so that the next time we have a fire a spark doesn't set off the gasoline under someone's lawnchair. So then I lit the ground on fire. Which would have been a better plan if a little trail of spilled gasoline leading to the nearby can hadn't also lit on fire and then lit the gas can on fire. So then I tried to pour the fire out of the gas can onto a nearby flower bed. That didn't work. So then I ran around the yard a little with the flaming gas can in my hand looking for something to smother the flames with. I found a piece of cardboard. That worked. So then I just had to put out the fires in the flowerbed and lawn. Which I did. But then I rememebered my original concern about the lawn starting on fire from a spark. So then I lit the lawn and the flower bed back on fire and dug up all the gasoline covered dirt and lit that on fire too.
And then, just as the flames were finally dying, a thundercloud passed overhead and the rain came pouring down.
And as I stood there with the rain landing on my face and the flames and ashes, I felt God say, "It's okay." I heard it in the gentle rumble of the thunder, "It's okay." Not in a way that meant what had happened was all right, but in the way that a mother strokes her child's hair when she's crying... In the way I said to Dad when he breathed his last breaths, "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
And it's not, but it is. I felt better.