My kids enjoy invading their grandparents' house for a sleepover while they are on vacation. It dawned on me a few days ago that I have a "day off" midweek and a meeting down the hill from my parents' house the next day, so those would be good days to camp out in my childhood home while my parents enjoy much warmer weather.
Upon arriving at my parents' house after our evening church activities, we brought in our bags of clothes and food, turned up the heat, and made our way upstairs to get the kids ready for bed. I went to the third floor, where most of the kids sleep, to turn on the heat. It smelled a bit odd, and as I approached the heater, I noticed smoke. My heart raced as I quickly pulled a smoking binder off the electric baseboard heater.
In God's perfect timing, we were here at just the right time. I have a feeling things may have turned out much differently if we arrived just a half hour later. I don't want to imagine what might have happened if we hadn't come at all.