storms – The Victory Garden

The heat has decimated my tomato plants. They brought me plenty of tomatoes in July, but they are spent now, brown, sagging, and lifeless.

My cucumber plants, however, are still growing, still sprouting flowers, still bearing fruit.

Usually they too are brown, sagging, and lifeless by mid-August. But not this year. Although I can’t know for sure, I think the difference is that this year my creek has flooded – twice in the past six weeks.

Sudden downpours of heavy rain have overrun my little creek’s capacity and sent it across the yard dousing my cucumber plants in fresh water and leaving behind new dirt and nutrients. Far enough away for the current, the flood water in my yard accumulates but flows gently. As much as six inches of water may have flowed across my plants, but they were able to withstand its push.

And now they are bearing flowers, thriving in the warmth, revitalized by the water the storms brought.

Perhaps there is a lesson here.

Flooding can be devastating. We’ve been reminded of that brutally this year. We are reminded of that dramatically every few years. We were all stunned by the photos of farm houses floating down the Missouri and Mississippi rivers in 1993. Nashville saw catastrophic flooding in 2010. More people die from flooding than any other weather-related cause except heat. Flooding is a serious issue; one we should not take lightly.

But not all flooding brings devastation and death. Most floods are less dramatic. Often, we have warnings that heavy rain is coming. We can usually mitigate the damage, get ourselves and our loved ones to safe places, prepare for the storm.

Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like the wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came. And the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. Matthew 7:24-25.

My landscape timbers are tied to the garden fence to keep them from floating away. Everything electrical in my garage is elevated above the “normal” flood line. Even my recycling is elevated, which would not be hurt, but it is a mess to clean up if water tips the cans over. And the water has gotten in my garage twice in the past six weeks.

Of course, flooding like what happened in Texas this summer, in North Carolina, what happened in 2010, and what happened in 1993 is beyond what anyone could prepare for. But they are not beyond what we can recover from. The Midwest has recovered. Nashville has recovered. North Carolina is recovering. Texas will recover.

My cucumbers recovered quickly. Thrived even. Healthier after the storm than before it. I find hope in this. When the storms come, and they will come, when the water rises, and it will rise, we can withstand, survive, recover, perhaps even thrive. It may be hard to believe when all you see is devastation. It may even feel insensitive to hope in the face of loss and destruction. But that is when we need hope the most, when we can’t see the reason for it.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1.

I don’t know what storm you are facing, or what floodwater threatens you today. God knows. He and His Spirit can help you prepare for the onslaught. He can help you withstand, survive, and recover. Perhaps He can even cause you to thrive in the aftermath.

Build on the rock and stand firm.

Love in Christ, Betsy

I love my gurgling creek, and I love God’s gift of rain. But on days like this, when the rain pounds on the roof and the creek roars as it rushes past, I need to stay alert.

I live in a flood plain. The lovely creeks that meet in my backyard can become a raging river that surrounds my house. It happens about every ten years. The last flood was in 2021, so I am not due for one, but God loves to throw curve balls, so I need to stay alert.

I can’t stop the creek from flooding, but I can minimize the impact. Most everything in my garage is elevated, out of harm’s way. But during the dry spells, things accumulate on the garage floor. On a day like today, I take things to the attic, put things on tables, and move things off the floor.

The first year I lived here, thirty-plus years ago, I was unaware of what living in a flood plain meant. The seller assured us the creek hadn’t flooded in the ten years he lived here. Then my new neighbor called to let me know my kid’s cozy coupe was floating downstream, along with all the other riding toys, and my trash cans. I think that’s called a learning experience.

I have installed new garage doors since 2021, when the food waters poured through the cat door and totaled my prius parked there. These doors are supposed to be strong enough to resist the push of water and have no cat door. Hopefully, they will keep the water out of my garage even if the creek is out of its banks. Maybe I will find out today.

Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man. Luke 21:36.

I must confess I am not alert at all times. I am alert when it rains for several days in a row, or when the clouds drop massive amounts of rain in a short period of time. I become aware when situations alert me to my complacency. The hours of rain push me to move the boxes into the attic where they belong. The ponding water in the yard motivates me to move the grandkids’ toys onto the patio.

Sometimes it takes stormy weather to wake me up. Someone I haven’t quite forgiven shows up unexpectedly. My child challenges some long-held opinions. Failure makes me examine who I am trusting. Storms are like that. They make you take another look around your garage and see if you have left things on the floor. They open your eyes to things God wants you to see.

My brothers and sisters, when you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let endurance have its full effect, so that you many be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4.

So, I am considering this rainy day a joy. It has forced me to pick up my garage. The rushing water has cleaned the debris from the edges of the creek. The underground reserves are full of life-giving water which will soon transform seeds into plants and bring forth blossoms. Rain is a gift from God. Perhaps all storms are. Even the destructive ones.

They wake us up. They put us on alert. They make us examine what we can do and what only God can do. They force us to address who we are trusting – ourselves or God.

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on a rock, The rain fell, the floods came, and the wind blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. Matthew 7:24-25.

Put on your high-water rain boots and join me standing on the rock.

Love in Christ, Betsy