Water
Water
By RAYLA STEWART HOGUE
Special to the Daily Statesman
The soothing sound of water gently entered her dreams as she tried to catch those precious final moments of sleep through the night. Water had always been such a calming sound. She snuggled into the warmth of sleep and bed when the sound changed to that of air bubbles from a water cooler. She giggled at the thought as she drifted half in and half out of sleep. Why would she be dreaming of a water cooler?
The sound of air bubbles came again . . . and again. She wished she could turn off her dream. It was beginning to annoy instead of soothe her weary mind. Opening her eyes, she could sense something was wrong. It was a cold night; perhaps the bathroom water had frozen. She rose and padded toward the bathroom--all was fine. She headed back toward the bed, but the sense of unease was strong.
Opening the door, she stepped into the main section of the house and paused to listen. She could hear the sound of running water. Perhaps the bathroom on the upper floor was running. No, all was normal there. She wandered into the kitchen--nothing amiss. The sound of running water was stronger. She stepped to the door of the utility room and back porch. Opening the door she was greeted by a four foot wide stream of gently flowing water several inches deep.
She closed the door. Sleepwalking--surely she was sleepwalking in her dreams. Shaking her head, she decided she must be awake. She opened the door. A wide, shallow stream of water was coursing across the utility room floor and cascaded over the side of the stairs and disappeared under the door of the basement. She stepped into the room, on the dry wooden floor and moved to the edge of the moving water over the concrete floor beyond. The washing machine was pouring water out from underneath it.
It was an ancient machine and often didn't turn off correctly. She usually left the lid open, but it was shut. Apparently it had gotten stuck in the filling cycle and was not overflowing. Lifting the closed lid, she found . . . and empty machine. Huh? Water continued to flow from the bottom of the machine.
Wading into the water, she reached for the faucets to shut off the water. There were no faucets; only open pipes with water running full from them. Using a flash light she found the faucets with washer hoses intact laying of the floor at the base of the machine. It looked as if someone had simply pulled the hot and cold water faucets off the wall and dropped them.
Looking for the shut off valve at the base of the pipe, she discovered there wasn't one. Tracing the pipe back through the wall to the kitchen wall still found no shut off valve. She couldn't get down the steps into the basement to continue looking . . . what to do?
By this time it was almost 5:30 in the morning . . . she was alone in the house . . . calling the chair of the board for the church, she hoped he could help . . . no answer . . . sigh, now what? Thinking through the people who lived nearby, she decided to call Janet. She was resourceful. Maybe she could figure out what to do.
"Hello."
"Hi Larry, it's the preacher. Um, I have a flood with water flowing through the utility room and can't find a shut off valve. Do you think you and Janet could help me out?"
"Okay. Be right there."
Moments later headlights broke the dark as their car pulled up. "Sorry about this, but I heard the sound of bubbles wake me up and then found . . . well just look." She opened the door to the utility room. After a couple of feet of dry flooring a wide, shallow stream of water coursed its way across the floor cascading over the edge of the stairs and down into the basement. Open pipes fed the stream and the undamaged faucets lay on the floor.
"Guess I'd better go shut the water off," he said as he made his way through the stream, down the stairs and entered the basement, slogging through the water to find the valve.
Amazingly the damage was contained in the one room. The boxes stored there were damp, but not ruined. The faucets, still intact, could be repaired. New cut off valves could be put into place. While a mess, all could be repaired.
Church that day was interesting--no shower, dirty hair and of all days remembrance of the baptism of the Lord. The sermon written spoke of water--from creation, to the flood, crossing the red sea, crossing the Jordan, and the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan. Water: such a life giving force, yet capable of such destruction. Water: flowing, rushing, ever changing, deep or shallow, wide or narrow, changes all around it--gently shaping and changing all it encounters.
God is like that. God is the life force we cannot exist without. God is tender and gentle, yet firm, violent even when encountering what seems to be immoveable. Every encounter with God molds, shapes, and changes us so that we become more like God--sometime quickly like through a flood and other times slowly eroding and softening the hard edges.
God, move within our lives. Wash away those things which are not for our good. Purify and cleanse us. Help us to see that even when there is a flood, the waters of your love change us, moving us to the place we need to be. Refresh us and quench our thirst with your love and mercy. So be it. Amen.
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