Last night was literally the worst.
So. Much. Rain. So much water. More than Oklahoma has seen in a long, long, long time. Our new house is ever so slightly shy of sitting in a flood zone. Our entire yard was underwater. Our driveway was a lazy flowing river building castles in the sky. Our ducks were happily swimming in their very own custom caged-pond. All my friends were having flooding issues. And the rain kept coming.
Merrick started throwing up hardcore. Cold sweats. Choking in his sleep.
The baby fussed in her crib.
Caleb floated the trash can down to the curb. Thunder rolled. The water rose even more.
Midnight. Still rain. Still throwing up. Seth Meyers was ruining television.
Hard. I prayed for my son. I prayed for my house. And then I prayed for nine-year-old girls and their mothers in Iraq.
And then me and my husband had a conversation about losing everything and starting over from ground zero: would it really be that bad?
The answer is a firm no.
And things happen when I pray. Once I prayed for my cousin to get better–and he came out of a coma only a couple hours later.
This morning my ducks are on dry ground. My backyard is green green grass. I still need a canoe to get down the driveway, but as long as there’s no water seeping under my front door, I’ll survive.
Merrick is jumping around the living room with a belly full of saltines and Sprite.
And you know what? I hope somewhere in a desert across the world, a young girl is safe and her mother feels courage and strength.
Don’t forget to pray you guys. There are worse things than having to replace some drywall.