Right-Sized

When I arrived in Austin, Texas, 26 and 1/2 months ago, the state was in the worst drought since the early 50’s, and certainly the first one that involved the staggering (and burgeoning) population of Texas today.  Austinites apologized profusely for the horrible conditions, telling me that it was far worse than most of them had ever seen – in hopes, I suspect, that I would love Austin in spite of the drought.  One thing I remember from that summer was one rain shower that fell in late July 2011, lasting perhaps 5 minutes.  I did not see another drop of rain until the blessing of a rain pulse coming through in mid September, I believe.  Another thing I remember from that summer was that I was powerless to change the weather, as we suffered through 90 days with temperatures over 100 degrees.

Fast forward to this last week.   When Nicole and I arrived here in Fort Collins, CO on Labor Day, the state had had some relief from drought with some timely thunderstorms and systems this summer.  But everyone nonetheless spoke of the drought cycle that the state has been in for years now, and how concerned people are about the need for timely rains and snowpack this coming winter.  On Monday, we became aware that the 95 degree days were about to shift, as rain came into the picture.  The forecast was for a full week of clouds and rain, pulsing through the days and nights.  And they were exactly right – only no one seemed to grasp the volume of rain that would come down.  It was (and still is) breathtaking, especially for Central Texans who have often gone to bed in the last 2 years, pleading for rainstorms to put us to sleep.  At this point, the calculation is that the amount of rain that has come down, if it had been in inches of snow, would be the equivalent of over 12 feet of snow.  Today the flooding is so severe that no one can drive from Fort Collins to Denver.  Every bridge between here and there is compromised.  It is, as they are saying, a “100 year flood.”

 

Two opposite experiences, totally contradictory.  Except for one thing – in both situations, we experience our utter powerlessness.

One of the great truths which Nicole and I sit with this day is the step which begins each of our days – to admit our powerlessness to do almost anything we pretended all our lives that we had within our power.  Drought and floods remind us that we are not God, and that we are grateful – not only that such things require a wisdom and intelligence and power far beyond ours to be able to manage or direct or redeem – but also that we are relieved from the horrible pressure of trying to control or cure, or feeling the responsibility that we have caused most of what occupies our world.  We are given a reprieve today from playing God, and it is the greatest lesson from creation that I can imagine.

And so, though I have no power whatsoever to cause this to happen, I will pray that God will give Central Texas, indeed, all of Texas, the refreshment of the rains that it needs.