The snow lies heavy on the ground. Six million workers throughout the U.K. were unable to go to work today. All transportation in London was halted; six thousand schools throughout the country were closed; Heathrow did not operate, and emergency services were inundated. In Wales, six hundred schools did not open, and locally, families were out snowballing or making snowmen (a two and a half metre tall one stands in next door’s garden). In such weather it is pleasant in the evening to sit cosily with John Owen, around our coal fire.
A few nights ago, we had settled by the fire after the evening meal, when I heard a noise as if an aeroplane was overhead, but it continued. I quickly realised the chimney was on fire, so dashing for a bowl of water and rags, I then squeezed water over the red coals. This sent steam up the flue, and cut off the oxygen to the flames. It took 20 minutes, but eventually the danger was averted. If it had happened during the day, the neighbours would have seen the sparks and flames from the chimney-pot on the roof, and would have knocked the door and shouted, ‘Fire, fire!’
And that is what preachers do, warning of danger by crying ‘Fire, Fire!’ You may say, ‘Where, where?’ ‘In hell,’ is the answer! Friend, you may now be sitting at ease, but you are in terrible danger. Listen to the Gospel call, it is only Christ, the water of life can save you from the flames. And only Christ can pluck you as a brand from the burning.
Colloquy Cymraeg >