Johnny Cash How High's The Water Mama

Late one evening, not long ago, it began to pelting. I thought zero of it until the side by side forenoon when I opened the front door to let the dogs out. What I saw acquired me to stumble backwards.

The tiny river and adjoining stream that run through our front pastures had flooded and the muddied waters were edging close. For an hour, I watched every bit the river rose visibly before my eyes. In my head, I heard the plaintive, rustic plea of Johnny Greenbacks recalling a childhood flood in Arkansas.

"How high's the water, Mama?" he sang.

"Five feet loftier and risin'."

I did non wake Tink. There was zilch he could exercise and if trouble was coming, I figured we'd deal with that later. For the time being, I'd permit him get his rest.

Our business firm is on a colina so I wasn't worried nigh it reaching us — though the stream washed over the driveway and reached a pes high — merely I fretted virtually Mama's house across the style. Anxiously, I watched as it rose. In the dorsum pasture, the horses huddled at the befouled, uncertain of the water that was roofing their state.

I prayed. Considering I believe in its power.

In that little business firm beyond the way, I grew up. Occasionally, I had witnessed the creek "get outta banks," equally we called information technology. It happened later on days of relentless rain, not overnight as this had happened. A few times, information technology had risen to nearly 25 yards from the firm. This time, I did non know what to predict.

I pulled on a raincoat, hat, and knee-loftier waterproof boots and headed down the drive where I found a couple of beavers paddling around in the midst of our driveway. I sighed heavily and looked over into the distance toward my childhood home.

I could not recall a time when either Mama or Daddy had worried that the waters might attain them. They turned it over to the Lord and rested in that assurance.

There was a calm I found in recalling their peace. "Consider the lilies how they neither toil nor spin," makes me retrieve e'er of how effortlessly they trusted a higher power. Information technology would never have occurred to them to worry equally I was doing on that gray, overcast mean solar day.

My discomfort grew when I learned that viii miles away, another creek had flooded my brother-in-law's barn and they were scampering to relieve a hard summer's labor of hay.

Daddy faithfully quoted the scripture that promises, "The angels of the Lord encampeth effectually them that feareth God." After Daddy died, whenever someone asked Mama if she was afraid to live there alone, she'd reply, "Not ane iota. Ralph e'er said that angels are camped around and I believe they are protectin' me."

Information technology is necessary to point out that I had not recalled this conventionalities of my parents considering I was besides decorated being carnal and worrying.

For that reason, I can tell you lot that I had not planted that idea in my head when I looked back toward the little house and saw — in the flash of a 2nd — three or iv mighty, large angels lined up at the dorsum of the house. Just and then did it come to heed, the conviction of Daddy's and Mama'south words promising heavenly protection.

Relief encompassed me and I knew that piddling house would be alright. Non because of my prayers but of the ones they had prayed.

It was astonishing. The water menacingly rose toward us but spilled sparingly from the other banking concern. The fiddling house was never in danger.

A few hours afterwards, the rain stopped and the water began its retreat. Relieved, I went into the laundry room of the house, safe on the hill, and discovered that the washing automobile had flooded.

God, information technology appears, has quite a sense of humor.

[Ronda Rich is the acknowledged author of "Allow Me Tell You Something." Visit world wide web.rondarich.com to sign up for her free weekly newsletter.]