Streams of Mercy

Seeing the news reports of the flooding in Kentucky is heartbreaking. Growing up in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky and living there much of my life, I remember the ever-present threat of flooding. Little mountain towns and homes on the hillside up and down the “hollers” fall victim to flooding from year to year.

I remember a major flood in the early sixties. Schools were out for weeks. There was no power or water. I can remember serving meals in our church fellowship hall by candlelight, and filling water jugs with water brought in by tanker trucks. We collected and sorted clothing and household items there at the church for folks in need. I remember watching the river swallow the high school football field, and seeing animals struggling in the current for a way to the water’s edge. While many of our homes never flooded, we all dealt with the aftermath.

Another major flood came one early April in the mid seventies, this time with water rushing into much of the downtown. I was expecting a baby and wasn’t able to do much to help, but have vivid memories of sitting with friends washing muddy toys and tricycles during days of recovery. I went back to a friend’s house several times before I found their dachshund puppy, and took the little fellow in until they were able to relocate and have him with them again.

It's hard to understand why some things never change and why folks always want to rebuild in the same spot, knowing the danger. A sense of “home” is very real among mountain folks as well as an understanding that life is just “hard”, and you take what life brings you and do the best you can with it.

Years ago, engineers decided to tunnel through the mountains around my home town in three different spots, dividing the river into three channels, and flood walls were built and floodgates put in place. This area was spared in this round of flooding.

I read just this morning that the Presbyterian Disaster Service (PDA) is already in place and active in recovery efforts, and am reminded again of the importance of our annual One Great Hour of Sharing Offering to benefit that good cause.

In my sadness for the suffering of folks in the flooded areas, I’m comforted by these words from the third verse of the hymn “How Firm a Foundation”:

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;

For I will be near thee, thy troubles to bless,

and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.”

May God bless and keep the dear folks in “my old Kentucky home.”

Elizabeth