Desperate for life. Lord bring us through. Desperate for death. We long to meet You.
“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21 NKJV
Hands shaking, heart breaking. Eyes seeing but not believing.
Brown bubbling waters race over the road. Grass disappears, no time to be slowed.
Up the stairs, up the stairs we run. Brown waters chasing us, persisting up one by one.
Stair one, stair two, stair three. We watch in disbelief, how can this be?
Stairs four and five, six and seven – nowhere to be seen under the waters so mean.
Stairs eight and nine vanish as currents rip and roar. Only six left to go before it reaches the door.
I glance up taking in the sight. A soul rushes by in the muddy water strife. Oh how tender, how precious this one’s life.
Waters holding steady six stairs from the top. The battle is raging. When will it stop?
Lights on inside, a house rises off it’s foundation. Power lines pulled taut, snapping without hesitation.
“Help is on the way, we’re coming to save you!” “Please don’t come! Nobody could possibly make it through.”
The currents run deep and the dark situation sets in. Gasoline in the air covers our clothes, hair and skin.
Fires behind, fires in front. Homes ablaze defy the rain.
Creaking, shifting, booming, banging. Homes careening, colliding, collapsing. Cars bobbing, SUVs slapping, trucks flipping. Voices crying, yelling and screaming.
Brown, bubbling waters rushing and rising, rushing and rising. Relentless rain is applauded by rumbling thunder.
Another one floats by, someone’s daughter, someone’s son.
Good doggie. Stay. Hold on to that branch. Stay tangled in the brush as the waters around you rush.
Tie the sheets, tether together. It will be muddy and cold. Let us practice now, our breath we will hold.
We kneel, we 3, and petition desperately to our Savior. We yield, we 3, in Jesus name, amen.
There go two more, maybe sisters, maybe friends. One blond, one brunette. Please Father help them. Please Father, please.
To live means to survive but will we ever again thrive?
To live means images forever haunting. To die means certain trauma, deep waters brown and daunting.
To live means nightmares and tears, anxieties and fears. To die means final freedom, knowing fully and being fully known.
To live means not understanding but accepting His grace. To die means seeing His face, finally taking my place.
To live means my son turns 7 soon. Is it written, could it please be true? To die means our life’s mist is dissipating. On Him we have been waiting.
Father we say, “Come quickly!” Help us Lord to be ready yielding all expectations of how and when we anticipate You will come. Father we know You will call each of us home at the appointed time as You have the souls on August 21, 2021. Help us to be willing and ready to accept Your plans all the days of our fleeting lives. Help us Lord. Save us Yahweh from the flood and the flame. Deliver us from the hand of our enemy. All we have is You. All we need is You. We praise You and give You all honor and glory as You are the one true God. You are Creator of all. You give and You take away. You are righteous and just in all Your ways. We yield our lives to You because we trust in the word of Your testimony through the life and blood of Your only Son Jesus Christ. We believe You are who You say You are and that You are good. We love You because You love us. In Jesus name, amen.
………. ……. …. after waiting and watching and waiting some more we were grateful to finally hear the first sign of help 3 hours later as a chopper flew overhead rescuing many off rooftops. As the heavy rains turned to sprinkles, the roaring waters began to quiet, slowly going down. The sun came out and gleaned across the thick muddy water as eerie silence was broken here and there with shouts for help. Eventually boats slowly made their way through the debris rescuing a few here and a few there. Finally fire fighters trekked through the declining knee high water and found us 3 in a second floor apartment above a garage made out of concrete block. We walked carefully stepping gingerly through the debris-filled waters to the road where we were finally able to hug those who had said they were coming to get us. And so they did. By the way, that good doggie did “stay” and was rescued from the tangled brush and then walked around by another survivor in search of the owner. We were all at the mercy of the Lord that day. He blessed many to bring them to Himself, others of us have been preserved here to press on occupying until He comes or calls us home. We are each grieving and grateful. We have been preserved for a reason. Thank You God. Help us.
Isaiah 43:1-21, Psalm 91
Fully Known 