I sit in my garage watching the flood line of Hurricane Harvey inch closer to my house. Wind pushes hard at the trees, what seems like endless rain ignores my prayers.
Prayers. What comes of them now?
One of the finest Priests I know, Rev Beth Fain just 2 or so months ago returned to her house after it was repaired, following serious flood damage back in April of last year. Last night she evacuated, her home again flooded, only worse than before. A loyal, magnificent Priest. Why her Lord?
I cannot fathom prayer. I know without question that God acts, that He works in my life. But how, and where prayer fits in. Utter mystery.
With each tragic, confusing moment, my faith deepens. Not through God becoming more clear, but through God being less perceptible. I lay down another part of my intellectual construct, my pitiful assumptions about God. I give up a little more control over God’s nature. I give in to the mystery.
Little do I know. Little must I know for my faith to grow.
And still the flood waters proceed towards my home..