[title subtitle=”words and images: Rick Gering, Lead Pastor, Eastside Baptist Church, Fort Smith, Arkansas “][/title]
In November of 2017, my wife Cindy and I moved into our dream home we lovingly named the Empty Nester. We were so excited, not only because it was the house of our dreams, but also because we had it built on a piece of property with a water view. We always wanted to do both.
Everything was just right! The house was built in a no-flood zone in a 500-year flood plain. That means there would be a .02% risk of flooding each year. Because of the nearly impossible chance of flooding, the bank didn’t require flood insurance and our insurance company didn’t offer it. We were not aware we could have purchased a policy through FEMA.
On a number of occasions, people would ask if we were worried about it flooding. We would simply respond, “No, because it would take a catastrophic flood.” Well, that catastrophic flood happened eighteen months after moving in.
It was Wednesday, May 29, 2019, and the flood crest was to be thirty-three feet. We weren’t concerned about it, because our neighbor had experienced a flood on two previous occasions at thirty-four feet, and although the water had crept fairly close in the back, it never reached their home.
We placed plastic sheeting over our fence in the backyard and secured it with sandbags. Although we weren’t worried about the house, our goal was to try to prevent water from getting into our pool, which sits about eight feet lower than the level of the house. We knew it would be close, so we took precautions. My wife took a picture of me cleaning the pool with flood waters rising behind me. In her blog, fortcindysblog.com, she wrote, “Is he crazy, confused or committed?” I guess you could say I was a little of all three.
It was now Thursday, May 30, and all of a sudden the crest forecast jumped to forty-one feet. We panicked because we knew our home was now going to be threatened. We had several people come over and give their professional opinion. Their response, “There’s no way the water will reach your home.” I mean, .02% chance, right?
On Friday, we knew their predictions were wrong and that we would take in water. We did everything we could. We sandbagged the back and front porches. We sealed all windows and doors. We bought a pump and were ready to put it into action. On Saturday, dozens of people from our church helped us pack up our belongings and move them to storage. We tried to save all we could including doors, cabinet drawers, even carpet. On the next day, Sunday, the flood finally invaded our home. The pump was useless.
We stood in shock watching the water slowly permeate the house. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The only way I can explain the feeling and emotions of that moment was that it felt like a piece of our soul was being ripped apart. This home is where we hung our hearts and rested our souls at the end of every day! It was an incredibly helpless feeling to know that we did everything we knew to do, and it wasn’t enough! In the end, two to three feet of water would sit for six days in our home.
As of this writing, the water has finally receded and we have one more day to wait for the remediation process to begin. We now look towards the rebuilding phase.
I’m not going to lie, this has been one of the most difficult things we have been through in our thirty-three years of marriage, but I will also say, it’s all about perspective. I wrote the following shortly after this picture of flooded home was taken:
“Let me give you my top five things about this picture.
1) Even though it sits in flood waters, it still looks as beautiful to me as when we moved in a year and a half ago.
2) The flag is still waving, reminding me of how blessed I am to live in these United States of America.
3) The only bag that can still be seen is a big deal to me. It’s symbolic of the incredible effort and energy of many who helped us empty our home and tried to protect it.
4) How about the water? It’s as ugly as it gets; but notice how peaceful it is. It reminds me of the peace of God my wife and I have, even in the midst of the flood, no flood insurance, and no timeline of when we will be back in.
5) Then there’s the trees. Green as can be. It reminds me of the new life that will give way once the water recedes and they make me thankful of the new life I have in Jesus Christ.
It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? Although very difficult to watch – more than you will ever know – and although it’s taking forever to end, this one picture gives me comfort, believe it or not. Thank you, God, for giving me the eyes to see the good beyond the pain. May You get all the glory, praise and honor you so richly deserve. Yep, knocked down, but not destroyed. Hit in the gut. Heck, smashed in the face, but not out. Yep, discouraged, but not defeated. Yep, tears shed and more to come, but God has replenished those tears with a fountain of hope and a greater faith and trust in Him.”
One thing that has been abundantly clear to me is that Fort Smith and the River Valley will not only get through this natural disaster, it will become stronger because of it. As Mayor McGill of Fort Smith has been saying, “We will rise up! We are River Valley strong!” He’s absolutely right! I’ve seen the community reach out to help its fellow citizens in ways that have been truly amazing. We’ve seen people feverishly sandbag in hopes of saving homes. We’ve seen people tirelessly load trucks and trailers with personal belongings. Generous people have offered their place to those who have been displaced from the flood. Companies have made donation after donation for flood relief. City officials have stepped up in leading this community through this disaster. Churches have shown the sacrificial love of Christ to all people regardless of race, gender, socioeconomic status, and denomination. It has been a special time of the community coming together in the midst of a crisis situation.
And with any disaster, it’s the rebuilding process that will be critical. We can’t allow ourselves to fall back into a routine and begin to forget about all who have been directly impacted by this flooding. I was deeply moved by a gentleman, who in the last three years, has lost his son, had his home hit by a tornado and now by a flood. He sent the following to me, “I have been given so much needed help with sandbags, trees, moving stuff, etc…but I fear that help will quickly fizzle and I, like many, will be left with a half fixed house for years and years to remind us of our pain.”
His words are a great reminder to us, and it is this: Yes, lots of work has already been put in for flood victims. Help that is greatly appreciated. But the hard work has really just begun. Therefore, we can’t forget the flood victims. We must make sure we don’t stop until every person has been put back in their home and that we remain alongside them as they move through the process. Remember, we are River Valley strong!
