If you have never been awakened with a phone call that your home caught on fire, I hope you never have that experience. I’ve now had it twice in my life, and that’s three times too many.

(By the way, in case you didn’t know, my parents’ home where I grew up caught on fire in 2004. Again, the damage was miraculously small.)

Jill called me on Thursday morning, and I knew I needed to wake up fast when she said, “I need to tell you something.” In my experience, that phrase has never preceded good news.

She told me that on Wednesday night the wood around the stove pipe finally got hot enough to ignite. Lucas smelled the smoke and did exactly what he should have done. He called 9-1-1 and then sprayed the wall with the fire extinguisher. The fire was inside the wall upstairs, between a storage closet and a wall of books.

Now for the good news:

1. The fire department arrived almost immediately because they just happened to have finished at another call close by.
2. Before I moved out, we had cleaned out the closet where the fire was. All of Stephanie’s stuff was safely stored in her old room. And we’d donated a big pile of sheets and towels.
3. All of the stuff - and I mean every single item - that I was worried about has been found safe.
4. The insurance company has been helpful. And the clean-up and renovation company works with them, so there shouldn’t be any issues about repairs or costs.
5. Even though they can’t move back in until the repairs are complete, Jill and Luke have had at least nine offers of a place to stay.

So a heartfelt thank you (should there be any other kind?) to all of you who have e-mailed your support, prayed for us, offered to house Jill and Luke, sorted through insulation and mess to find our treasures. And, even though I’m sure they will never read my blog, I would like to thank the firemen who responded so promptly and took such care with my possessions. You have my vote for any taxes to support you.