Flooded …

I finally made it down to the ranch to check out the damage from Hurricane Ian.  According to an electronic rain gauge at my cousin Ned’s grove, we had close to 27 inches of rain before the gauge quit working.  I think the rain gauge was flooded. 

Even though the ranch is 70 miles inland, the wind from the storm was between 75 and 100 mph.  We lost a lot of oranges off the trees; heartbreaking, because it was the best crop we had in years.  Small trees were blown over, but those were young enough that we could put them back in the ground. 

The biggest damage was in the pasture.  I’ve been asked over and over, “How did the cows do in the storm?”  Cows are pretty smart, actually.  They put their backs to the wind and head for high ground.  As long as they can stay out of the water and have some food, they do alright.   

Our damage was to the fences.  There are eleven places where the creeks cross our fences.  In most of those places, the fence is gone.  Posts and wires have disappeared, probably lost somewhere downstream.  When we rode through the pasture, I noticed a quarter of a mile on either side of the creeks, there was debris of branches and grass pushed up on the wire.  I have never seen that before.  According to the members of the family with the longest memories, Marcus and Aunt Jean, water was standing where there had never been water before. 

We have great oaks blown over, some on top of the fence.  There are sections of the pasture we can’t get to without a chainsaw and a front-end loader.  According to the government inspector, we have at least 15,000 linear feet of fence that will need to be rebuilt.   

It is amazing how much force water can have.  According to the U.S. Geological Survey, water one foot deep typically exerts 500 pounds of lateral force.  That much water can move a parked truck—no wonder the fence is gone. 

In South Carolina, where I live, we had 20 inches of rain in a 500-year flood event in 2015.  My house was on high ground, thankfully.  Other folks in our community were flooded out of their homes.  They lost all their furnishings and were displaced for months. 

People can be emotionally flooded.  Sometimes it accompanies literally flooding.  I saw the pictures from Sanibel Island and Fort Myers Beach.  The wrecked homes and boats represented retirement dreams for many.  One lady was standing on the foundation of what was once her home.  A reporter asked her, “What are you feeling?” she replied, “Shock.  I don’t know what to feel.”  Shock is what happens when you are so flooded the emotions are backed up and can’t get out.

Grief can flood you.  I’m still flooded from losing my brother and sister eight months apart.  I spoke once with a woman who had lost her husband, her father, and one of her children in the span of six months.  She told me she jumped whenever her phone rang, anticipating another call reporting sad news. 

Trauma can flood you.  There is wisdom in the old saying, “Once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.”  I remember my Uncle LM telling me about working in a funeral home.  He was called out to a plane crash where the crew had died from the resulting fire.  He told me he did what he had to do: picking up the bodies, putting them in bags, and taking them to the funeral home.  But he said, “I knew that day the funeral business was not for me.  I dreamed about those burned bodies for years.”  Dreams are a release valve for flooded emotions. 

Anger can flood you.  I have seen people so angry that all reason leaves them.  They almost seem possessed by a force greater than themselves.  That anger either explodes physically, verbally or internally.  Either way, it is deadly. 

What do you do when you are flooded?  You can be paralyzed or consumed, or you can remember a great promise of God.  Through the prophet Isaiah, God said, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you…”   

God does not promise a life with no floods; he does promise when we are flooded, we are not alone.  I am trying to learn to pray, “Heavenly Father, I feel flooded.  Help me know what I feel.  Whatever I am feeling, I trust in you.”  This is God’s great ongoing promise: if you let him, he will walk with you through every flood.

 PS: If you would like a job building fence, I have a terrific opportunity for you.