Ember

Imagine living in a city hundreds of feet underground, and not knowing it.  You believe you understand everything about this world, that you've seen it all.  Your community is lit by a thousand lamps by day which shut off promptly each evening at bedtime.  It never rains, but is a constant somewhat chilly temperature.  There seems to be nothing more to explore, and no hope for anything better.  Nowadays, however, the lights begin to flicker a little too often and even go out completely during the day for several moments at a time.  You begin to look for a way out...

Welcome to the City of Ember.  I think the reason I enjoyed this book so much is because, living in the Northwest, we dwell in our own type of Ember.  It is gray at least ten months out of the year, even if it's not raining.  Although we despaired of having no summer this year (like last year!) it finally arrived August 1st and has continued, so far, through mid-September as I write this.   In spite of this, even on this beautiful, sunny day, I find myself dreading what is surely to come.  I begin to look for a way out...

After much research, however, I discover that Phoenix is too hot, Florida is too humid, San Diego is too expensive and Eastern Washington is too far from my kids (they refuse to move there!)  So, the answer seems to be to settle in with my little blue light this fall (and winter, and spring and early summer...) and just deal with it. 

Recently, though, I've had the metaphor expanded for me even further.  The Pacific Northwest really isn't Ember; this world is. Tsunamis and earthquakes, tornadoes and hurricanes, bank failures and financial crises around the world are occuring with more and more frequency.  The lights are flickering. 

 Thankfully, the One who created this Ember has provided The Way out, and all who choose to follow will one day journey higher. For now, I strain to see past the flickering lights, constantly seeking the one true Spark that will lead us home.