Brian Maloy

One year ago I showed up to school, honestly pretty excited because it was the last week before Christmas Break. Finals were upon us (which is very chill as a teacher who is just proctoring). I even dressed up as Buddy the Elf (a little against my will) for the last day at Pawprint (our student run coffeeshop I teach), and scared the tar out of a co-worker for her birthday. I had a great department meeting wrapping up on some collaboration we needed to fix. It was a good day. I got home a little earlier than normal, and the kids and I took Sophie for a nice beautiful afternoon walk. Little did we know what was would soon be unfolding. 

Let me say this before anything else. God is very good. He has proven His faithfulness over and over. And please don’t misunderstand me to mean just materially or physically, I mean spiritually. God has proven time and again that He is faithful to His people, spiritually He has cared for us — boosted us up — reminded us of His truth — helped us to live in the uncertainty — and guided us through the valley. Truly, this is why I have tried to write and document this year of our lives. If only one person is moved and drawn nearer to the Lord as a result of my trying to wrestle through this season, than that is a worthy cause. If there is nothing else you read, I hope that sticks with you, I hope the Spirit moves within you to trust Him more.

That night, after the kids and I got home from walking Sophie that afternoon, we decided that Jack having a great day at school, we should let him pick someplace to go for supper. So Clara started a load of laundry, I told Sophie, “bye love, we’ll be right back”, gave her a kiss and ear scratch, and we loaded into the car (about 5:10). Now, I don’t need to replay the entire timeline (I can’t remember if I have in previous posts), but by 5:35 when our dear neighbor called me — our lives changed forever. There is no undoing what had begun at this point. 

I can vividly recall everything that night — the beating down windows and doors, the toxic evil smell of the smoke, the people standing with us, watching and waiting, the giant gashes on my hands from the glass — I’ve relived that night dozens of times. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and can smell the smoke.

It has haunted me at times, wondering if we had just stayed home instead of going out, what could we have done differently — did our sweet girl suffer at all? All the questions, they come in the quiet stillness of night, when life slows down, in the darkness. Yet in those moments of Valley, God has shown us again and again — He is with us. 

Seasons like this change people, many who told us after the fire that someone they knew had had a fire years before in their family history, and their folks always talked about life before and after the fire. I see that clearly now. That will somewhat divide our life. In the practical sense, I have to remember if “whatever object” is missing in our rental house, or if it is gone in the fire — and did I repurchase it yet, or did I imagine that? I suspect we’ll do that for years. Weird.

We have learned a lot about contentment this year. Never in a million years would I advocate for a house fire to “declutter” your belongings (seriously.. big no), you do realize when you’ve lost nearly everything you’ve ever had — how little you actually needed. There will of course by plenty to rebuy as we move home and aren’t renting our dishes and beds — but still, we’re able to see the blessing more than ever, in the simple things, and having what we need. I am grateful, YES grateful, for learning this lesson this year. Contentment in our world is a lost aspiration, and this has jump started me more than I would have otherwise — clearly another example of God using hard things for His good. 

Our kids have developed much grit. We have together gone through something that often breaks families apart, or adds trauma that becomes a crutch — by God’s grace, we still all love each other, root for one another, and have grown in living in God’s rhythm, in His kingdom. We see more and more each day, what truly matters (and what doesn’t). 

We have been reminded (sometimes daily) about the blessing of good community. Our family has encouraged and supported. Our church has been gracious, our Sunday School class has prayed and prayed. Our school communities (Westminster, Covenant, and Dressel), are unbelievable. The grace and support we’ve been given this year is just unfathomable. There is no way I know how to really thank all those in our circle aside from glorifying God. They have been better to us than we’ll ever deserve. I pray my kids walk away with a deep sense of that, and learn to live graciously to others as a result.

This last week I read a phenomenal article written by Charles Spurgeon for one of my seminary classes. Ironically my class is Trauma & Crisis Counseling right now, interesting timing — but nevertheless, I had to do a write up on this old article. Spurgeon leaned into Psalm 23, which has been a big favorite this year, and he specifically references v. 4. 

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

It’s beautiful for so many reasons (I can share the short article if you’re interested), but it’s amazing because He walks through the easily overlooked nuance of this verse. 

1. We are walking THROUGH the valley — which infers there is an end, it’s temporary.
2. The valley is dark, foreboding, cloaked in shadow, and in death. The sorrow is indeed real. 
3. We are not to fear evil, and we have a good reason — He is with us in the valley too.
4. His presence, His direction, His care — they are our comfort in the valley too.

I share all that from the Spurgeon article to say this. I have lived that this year. We have lived that together this year. Our extended family, our dear friends, our co-workers, our neighbors — they have lived that to some extent too. Tragedy (big or small) impacts those around us. And the really beautiful thing about this year, I believe God has been proven to be as good as He said He is, He alone gets the glory for how this year has unfolded — what a miraculously beautiful work of the Lord, praise be to God. 

Hopefully by mid-late February we get to move home to our “new” home. As of now, all the framing is done, windows, exterior doors, roof, rough plumbing, and concrete are done — electric is wrapping up this week. Drywall gets delivered this week, siding should be going up next week. We need to pick appliances, and finalize paint colors — need to order a few more furniture items, and make an IKEA run to see what small items make sense to pick up there. We’ve slowly ordered bedding, replaced some dishes, and pots/pans. We tried to take good advantage of Christmas sales for things that were small and easy to move home. BUT, it’s progress — it’s longer than we expected, we’d hoped to be home by Christmas this year, but we’ll hopefully be home right before I turn 40 😉 but if not, time will tell!

SO — while we wait for the next steps, we will keep trusting in His Word — we will be patient (with the help of the Spirit) while our home is completed. Eventually we’ll move home & get used to the next new normal — 
BUT we will be together, and God will still be good.