FEARING THE FLOOD

After church today, we packed up the van and headed to a nearby dam for a picnic. There's so many little things I want to mention about it (I'm feeling faint as I think about it), but I'll start with why we like to spend time there (then I'll get to the fainting stuff).

The dam is less than an hour from us. It requires a drive through the beautiful oh-so-open countryside of Indiana and you know how I love the country. No, we didn't get to pass through some of Indiana's more creatively named towns, like Bean Blossom or Gnaw Bone. But I did get my "full up" of picturesque country. Good enough. That is, until we hit a few particular towns near the dam. The poverty we witnessed was nothing short of shocking. Extreme. We were out in the middle of no where and found a soup kitchen and food pantry. It was surreal, given the location and we were downright shocked. Less than one hour away from us there are what have to be some of the poorest folks in America. It was hard to take in. How could I not realize my glass is half full? Thank you, Lord, for blessings great and small in my life.

So, back to our drive. To get to the dam we had to drive waaaay back off the main road via a stone road. This one.


We drove a good five miles through wooded areas, open farmland, and finally back into the park system where the dam is both located and isolated. We then descended DOWN, DOwn, down the blacktop road to the tail waters of the dam (similar to a spillway, only there's just one huge drainage pipe that releases water from above the dam).

The kids took off for the playground while Carl and I fired up the grill. We had those insta-light charcoal thingies but had a bit of trouble lighting them with matches, seeing as the wind was gusting to 'blow-your-wig-off' intensity. Um, then we remembered you can pivot the grill around in any direction. Good to know.


See our table? It's the one on the right that's set back a bit. If you click on the image and look beyond the tables, you'll notice a light brown deck structure. That deck overlooks the very swift and deep river; a river that does not have anything to keep small children back from it. Yes, even our picnic table sat just 10 feet from old man river. Okay, my nerves were just a lil' jittery.

Now, a little jitter is good. It keeps you focused on safety. But "girfriend done fell out" jittery? Um, not so good. See the thing is, it's a little hard to be calm and focused when you've got an irrational fear of being under water, you're in this beautiful place that looks like a lagoon until you look about a hundred yards to your right and see a massive wall of dirt and stone (a dam, if you will) that's holding back about a b'zillion tons of water. And even though it hasn't rained for several days, the usual gentle flow of the massive drainage pipe is replaced by a massive, turbulent rush of water. Look at this photo and you'll see the flow when it's "normal" (nothing says comfort like being at the base of the dam on an abnormal day of major water flow; whatever). Today, water was rushing out of that pipe, filling it completely. It appeared as rapids. What you see in the photo is just a trickle by comparison.


See those trees in the forefront? They were completely consumed by water. Engulfed by the river. They were as giant lily pads out there and I'm supposed to be calm, right? As if.

Okay, now comes the most disturbing part of all. The stuff that faints are made of. Because what I'm about to share is just not a warning sign that any mother should have to read while her children are fifty feet away at the playground, out of her protective grasp in case of emergency. The sign read, and I quote;
Caution: When dam siren sounds, water level rises rapidly.
Bug eyed, "WHAT???" Instant panic. Instant jolt of adrenaline. Instant hundred scenarios playing out in the darkest corners of my mind. Instant, "Where are my kids and where are the life preservers?" If that alarm,..excuse me, siren had sounded right then, I'm pretty sure I would have found myself supine on the ground with a head injury, well meaning strangers assuring me that what I do in my own pants is my own business. I mean, c'mon! "When siren sounds"? That would scare the livin' b'jeebies out of me. And the few people who know about my underwater fears know how my heart stopped and the panic set in as I read that stinkin' sign. Honestly, what kind of a park ranger thinks it's funny to post such a thing? "If siren sounds." Sheesh!

And even worse still, there was some kind of cute little camp next door. Cottages. A dock on the river. All fenced in and private. I hope there's an ark builder in their bunch because I can't imagine hearing the warning of warnings in the dark of night, can you? "Honey, grab the kids and back the ark out of the hanger. Flood's a comin'."
I'm starting to feel faint again..............

A final thought:
So, does it seem unthinkable that I, A Christian, would fear the power of water held back by the dam? Well, I believe this is one of those areas of my life where I must "take every thought captive", including thoughts rooted in fear. The bible says,
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91:1,2

God is my refuge and my fortress. In surrendering my fears to Him, I find the courage to snorkel in ocean water (you have no idea what a victory that is for me) and the courage to picnic at the base of a dam. He "has my back" and not one day of my life will play out apart from the plans He has for me.