The Flood

I haven’t been blogging for an entire week.

Because of the flood.

Last Wednesday ( Sept 11) night and all day Thursday, the rain fell.

Not a nice comforting rain that makes you want to curl up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of tea.

No. This rain fell like Noah’s ark rain. We didn’t know in those early morning hours the devastation that was occurring all around us.

Bruce and I had planned to leave early on Thursday morning to drive to Indianapolis for the big writer’s conference. We took our usual route to get onto Highway 36, the one that goes down to Lyons and then Longmont.

But Fish Creek had overflown and was raging down the road. We turned around and detoured through town. Again we were stopped, this time by the flashing lights of patrol cars. A police man—who’d been up all night and looked exhausted— said that we should go home and wait out the storm.

We had one more option to try. And we didn’t tell the policeman. We knew the canyon part of Highway 7 was under water, but the upper part might still be okay.

We took that route—just beginning to show damage— all the way down to Interstate 70 and made a wide arc around Denver to escape into Kansas.

Our kids texted us often to give us updates on the horrors of the flood. So when we returned from Indianapolis four days later we kind of figured Estes would be bad.

Officials are telling us that the town’s sewage system is destroyed. They’d be happy if lots of us would leave town and stay elsewhere.

All three highways out of Estes are destroyed. Who knows how long that will take to rebuild?

The town’s one supermarket was bought out of food and supplies.

Fuel for vehicles was gone.

The folks in Pine Wood Springs are stranded, as are many Estes residents who live above the areas taken over by sewage-filled rivers.

Truly a disaster.

And on a personal note, our basement is flooded.

Of course, the devastation is not confined to Estes. It has brought untold damage to Front Range communities, and is making its way farther east toward Nebraska.

As with all weather calamities, we can’t help but wonder why God allows these things to happen.

And yet, through the days of rain, mudslides, destroyed homes, people have grouped and collected clothing and supplies to donate to those stricken. Others have opened their homes. Prayers have gone out. Workers and volunteers have shown up to start the repairs.

In these acts of mercy, God shows His presence and His unfailing love.

 

 

 

 

 

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