Over the last couple weeks it has rained just about every day. I’m not kidding. I love me a good thunderstorm every now and then, but since April 15 we’ve had almost 13 inches of rain. I’m kind of tired of getting wet every time I go outside. Fortunately, most of the farmers hadn’t gotten too much planted, and so they haven’t lost a lot of their crops like they have in years past. This is good news for sure. Because this below is a field…under lots and lots of water…and it stretches for miles.
The crazy thing is is that this is just about a mile from my house.
And people are having to evacuate their homes because it just keeps getting higher and higher. Levees are breaking and making the water come faster and deeper. For some people the levees are their only protection against the wall of water just waiting to come take over their home. So they just sit. And they pray.
But it’s in this instance like here in this town where the water has just slowly risen. It raises a few inches every day, and in the case of the days where the rain was heavier, I’m sure it raised more. Little by little it covers more and more ground until it finally starts slowly receding.
But yet you can still see the marks of where it’s been.
These creeks and rivers are always there. But they can only take so much. Then they slowly start overflowing…and causing what can be in some cases, complete devastation.
Have you ever noticed this in your own life? Things that are there, maybe visible, maybe just under the surface, but they’re there. You know how much you can take. You know when you’re just about to be pushed past your limits. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
What gets me is that this is such a quiet devastation…and it was less than two miles away from me. I would have had no idea what was happening. Thankfully, the local radio and newspaper have been covering the story and keeping us updated on river levels and if there was a need to help with the sandbagging and things like that. But here’s what got me thinking:
How many times is someone’s life falling apart right beside me and I don’t know about it?
Is the reason I don’t know about it because I don’t know people?
If one of my friends’ lives were to flood, would I know anything about it?
Of course, if they asked me for help, I would know something about it. And I would help them in any way that I can. But how do we help those who don’t speak up and ask for help? How do we help those who CAN’T speak up and ask for help?
I don’t know.
Just some questions I’ve been throwing around in my head lately. One thing I will ask of you readers, if you need help or prayer or both, will you ask me? If you won’t ask me, will you ask someone?
It’s so hard to be the body when we’re not communicating. So, let’s talk. What do you think?
How have you found ways to help someone who didn’t really ask for it?
The Esau Project 
