When You Pass Through the Waters . . .

It started out as the perfect storm—in a good sense. We were bringing Jeff’s dad and stepmom to Louisiana to meet their first great-grandchild, but we also wanted to do a little extra, considering that Jeff’s dad turned 75 in August. So when we learned Jeff would have a speaking engagement in Houston in late September, it appeared the perfect segue between the two things. We bought their plane tickets to Houston, bought tickets to the Astros vs. Rangers baseball game that evening, then booked an Airbnb in Baton Rouge to be with our son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter from Thursday to Sunday. Then we would drive back to Austin, which they hadn’t yet visited, and they would fly home from there. A week of many different places and experiences that all seemed to fit exactly right.

But we left out one variable: Tropical Storm Imelda decided to land directly in our path!

She ruffled our plans for the first time on Tuesday, the day before my in-laws were due to arrive. Instead of driving to Houston Wednesday morning, we went on Tuesday night in order to avoid the heaviest of the predicted rain. No biggie. One more night in the hotel there. And it was just rain. Not a hurricane or anything. In fact, Wednesday it rained off and on, but nothing horrible. We went to the ballgame, had a great time, and prepared to leave for Baton Rouge on Thursday morning after Jeff finished his business meeting.

We hit the road a little after 10 am for the typically 3 1/2 hour drive to Baton Rouge. But it was raining now. Hard. We all fell silent, listening to the windshield wipers flapping at their highest speed and the water hitting the car and the road. Not a problem. It was just rain. Or so said my husband.

Then the GPS took us off I-10—the highway connecting Houston and Baton Rouge—due to a slowdown. It appeared we would wind around on smaller roads to meet up with the highway again several miles later. After the incident, we assumed. Only when we reached the highway, it was shut down. Completely. Police directed us back the way we’d come. They simply wouldn’t allow anyone to proceed eastward. We stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break and to look over the maps. Yes, there seemed to be a state highway a bit south, running parallel to I-10. We’d do that. No big deal.

Except a few miles down those roads we hit a flooded portion. Other drivers turning around. We did the same, only to arrive back at the shut down highway. We searched for a more northern route to hit an eastbound road and backtracked to get to a street that would take us to the old highway leading to Baton Rouge. Slower, but would still get us to our destination.

Only it didn’t. We couldn’t even get there! Every route we tried ended in a river that was once a road. At one point, we drove slowly through several inches of water to reach solid ground only to go several more miles to a truly impassable point. We turned around and had to drive back through the first flooded area again!

Now we understand there was no passage through. At least not that day. So we headed back toward Houston, found a hotel in Channelview. Then after more information, we changed our minds and proceeded a few miles east one more time, ending up in Baytown, Texas, for the night. Four harrowing hours on the road and we’d gone what is normally a 1/2 hour drive! And the rain continued to fall.

Until we hit a stretch of road with water sloshing from both sides, water running across the pavement. And yet we were in a whole line of cars slowly driving that watery surface. No place to turn. The only way forward was . . .forward.

In the morning, we heard some barges had run into the I-10 bridge in Channelview—rendering it impassable. Had we stayed in Channelview, we would have had no hope of getting to Baton Rouge that weekend. But we were in Baytown. And the sun was shining. We headed up to the old highway since I-10 was still shut down, knowing there would be a lot of traffic there, but we would make it. 3 1/2 hours, the GPS told us.

At first everything was fine. Then we hit a stretch with water over the road. As we progressed, the water got deeper. And deeper. Only one of the two lanes was remotely passable. Again we were silent as we drove, all lost in our own thoughts and offering up our own prayers. I texted a few people to pray—people who later told me they could hear the angst in voice even via text.

Then we hit the town of Nome, Texas, which was literally under water.

And it started to rain.

Miles and miles of driving on a flooded road with only water in view on either side, but we finally made it back to solid ground. Once the imminent danger had passed, when I was thanking God for His mercy toward us, I began to recount all the way in which His comfort had intervened. While in that stressful stretch of road, with the rain pouring and the water on either side rising, one of my friends reminded me of Isaiah 43:2:

When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
And when you pass through the rivers,
They will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
You will not be burned;
The flames will not set you ablaze.

Also, I had noticed that the songs on Sirius XM’s The Message ALL talked about rain and flood and rescue THE ENTIRE TIME WE DROVE THROUGH THE WATER!!!

And most of all, I didn’t have a full blown panic attack or even a super high spike in my heart rate. I didn’t lose it, though my stomach roiled throughout the experience.

Five hours after we left Baytown, we arrived in Baton Rouge and loved on our Ivy. Our Airbnb was amazing (I’ll leave that for another post!), and our time there was sweet. Our drive home was slow due to continued closures on I-10, but nothing like the stress we endured on the way there.

We sustained a bit of damage to our car, but we made it. It was a faith-building trip we will never forget. And also one I don’t ever wish to replicate! And yet I now have another story to tell about the faithfulness of God.

(FYI–the pictures are representative of our experience because I was too terrified to think to take any pictures!)

Has there been a moment in your life in which God’s mercy and faithfulness has been on full display? Please testify!