I'm living on my own now in a studio, a room with a kitchen and a wood stove, and a bathroom out in a hallway, and a laundry room across from the bathroom. My landlords are a sweet old couple who live upstairs. They are always sweet enough to make sure I have enough kindling for the wood stove. They don't have to do that. But I appreciate it very much.
I've learned to not throw away any food boxes, paper or paper towels that, in the old days, I would throw away in the trash (side note: I'm also recycling plastic for like, the first time ever). I used some Fire Liter bricks the first few weeks of living here, but then I ran out. Short on cash, I found that I can stuff a few old TV dinner boxes with the used (dry) paper towels and other crumpled used paper, and those work well underneath a small pyramid of kindling.
As it turns out, building, starting, and keeping a fire going takes patience, attention, and even a little selflessness. That's sort of how you cook things, too. You can't just throw it over heat and walk away - which is what selfish, impatient me wants to do. Of course, it doesn't work that way.
The conditions for a fire have to be just right. The lightest material that catches fire most easily from a stricken match goes on the bottom. But, straight paper won't do it; there also has to be a bit of density, so it doesn't burn out too quickly. It needs to stay on fire long enough for whatever is above it to catch. There has to be enough air circulating around it, but not too much. So then there's the pyramid, or "teepee" (if you want to be unconsciously offensive but maybe more accurate) of kindling, on top of that bottom "fire starter". Dense wood doesn't catch fire easily without more intense heat - but smaller, thinner pieces catch well.
Once the smaller pieces of wood are burning, you can't just throw a giant log on and close the wood stove door and call it a fire. I should have mentioned, of course, that, first, the flue handle (or handles if it has two) have to be pushed in all the way, opening the path(s) for the air inside to escape. Fire follows air. So that's also why, if you just throw a log on, you'll collapse the pyramid and there won't be any more air in between the smaller wood pieces to keep the fire going. Only when the flames are burning the wood so hot that it creates red hot coals plus flames can you then finally add the larger wood. But it can't lay flat; it has to be at a slight angle, so two or three pieces propped against each other is ideal, also pyramid-like.
But you can't close the door right away. The fire can't always handle so many sudden changes in conditions right at once. You have to wait for the new wood to be on fire - each new piece - before closing the door.
Now, if you keep the flue open, the fire will burn quickly and fiercely. That's what you want at first, but then, if you don't close it some, the wood will burn too quickly, and before you know it, you're out of wood. So you want to keep the flue open just long enough for the new, larger, heavier wood to start burning fiercely (although that wood needs to have first been seasoned: in other words, dried for a season after being cut down, otherwise, it's "wet" wood and won't burn well - the outsides will catch, but the inside won't burn, and you'll just be left with a solid chunk of coal that doesn't actually burn).
Once that heavier wood is burning well, then you can close the flue almost all the way so the wood burns slowly, to conserve the wood. And, of course, you have to watch it throughout the day to make sure it stays burning, putting another log or two on, every once in awhile, at just the right times.
Closing it all the way is great for if you have to leave for the day, or for overnight, after stocking the wood stove full of heavy wood on top of lots and lots of red coals and other wood that's all ready burning, because the embers will burn very, very slowly and be available much later or the next morning for another fire - if only done just right.
Attention, patience, and selflessness. I can't always just do things "my way". I'm finding out, more and more, that my way is, in fact, the worst way.
But, that's okay. God is grace - mercy that I don't deserve - and I will be restored. God and I are building my fire together.
If I do things His way, I will be on Fire. But keeping the fire going means paying attention throughout the day. Having patience with myself, and others. Continuing the fearless, searching soul-searching work. Being as selfless as I can. Serving others. God's will, not mine, be done.
BB Bill's Story, p.16
