We complain about the heat,
but when the rain comes we
still kvetch about the weather —
until floods stop our words
and start our praying.
We see flooded cars, impassable walkways.
How will we get where we are going?
We are impatient for the waters to recede.
We want to get back to normal.
When things seem normal,
we can go along as if nothing
is wrong anywhere,
forgetting that everyday, everywhere,
people face the floods of life:
weeping that endures for more than a night,
grief carried over decades,
fear that health will not return,
violence that does not cease,
despair over our helplessness,
prejudice that fills every tunnel
so no one can get through safely.
From the edge of the flood we pray,
relying on your promise to Isaiah:
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.
From the edge of the flood, we pray.