While listening to the rain hit the roof and windows I am reminded of another rainy day just over a decade ago that left a lasting impression.
On December 30th, 2005, Willow Creek overflowed its banks and sent torrential floods pouring through our neighborhood and into the northernmost section of downtown.
After receiving an evacuation notice from the fire department, Karen notified me at work. But my attempt to get home was quickly met with obstacle after obstacle. Police barricades, impassable streets, fallen debris, and a collection of lookie-loos intermingled with travelers attempting to get through.
Our home was in one of the worst sections of the flood: right along the creek. And, though I normally enjoy four-wheeling, trying to get my truck across the raging water was not a fun task. How I kept it from stalling is beyond me.
I parked at the highest point of the driveway (where the water just touched the bottom portion of the doors), yet soon found myself sloshing through water up to my thighs while crossing the lot; where I saw Jeffrey on the top step, obviously scared, but doing his best to put up a brave front. — No matter what faults he has, or what sort of trouble he’d been in lately, I was as proud of him at that moment as I have ever been of anyone.
Upon entering I found Karen hard at work, trying to get as many necessities packed as she could. But the situation was taking a noticeable toll on her. So, the water be damned, I decided the family needed a little prayer time to calm things down. And we stopped everything, stood there in the kitchen holding hands, (with me dripping wet) and prayed for strength and for God to hold back the water…(like He’s done before.)
The very next time I went out to check the water level I realized it had not increased at all since my arrival. Within an hour I could see a slight decline. And by 9 pm the water was off the step, barely on the sidewalk, and parts of the lot were again visible.
Sure, some may scoff, or claim “coincidence.” And everyone is entitled to personal opinion. But we three; Karen, Jeffrey and I, had no doubt who helped us out and held back the water (especially since it continued to rain hard).
A good thing He did too, since we soon discovered that in Karen’s haste to pack up she forgot to supervise Jeff’s attempt to pack. And “necessities” means something quite different to an 8-year-old. Like three large duffle bags filled with only toys and videos.
Oh well! Live and learn.
[*Just remember, whenever a problem, like the water, rises in your life there is always someone to turn to.]