Rain

Rain. For those of us in the Boston-area, the past 5 days have been a non-stop soaking. Here where I live, we had around 8 inches of rain. My folks, just north of Boston received over a foot. That's a lot of rain!

The pictures of the flooding that has occured north of Boston are simply amazing. Roadways that are as familar to me as the back of my hand from years of travel were turned into Venice. The Ipswich River, a small gentle stream that I regularly fished as a kid, and canoed when I was a bit older, looked like the Kennebec or Penobscot after a dam release. My hometown's (Peabody) downtown was completely submurged. Schools were cancelled for 2 days. My sister, who lives in Haverhill told me that the two bridges in and out of town, which traverse the Merrimack River, were both shut down. She was going nowhere. Rain. A lot of rain.

While looking through an online set of flood photos at Boston.com, I came across an instant classic. There was a picture of a young man with a fishing pole in his hands sitting on the edge of the monument that graces downtown Peabody, pretending to fish (or possibly, really fishing, although for what, I'm not sure). I'm told the photo even made the national usatoday.com website. It was truly hilarious in the midst of a really difficult time.

As I reflected on that picture, and attempted to apply it to faith, it occurred to me of how thankful I am for those moment of laughter and joy, in the midst of the trials of life. Some of those who I consider my best friends have had the unique ability to bring a smile to my face, when sadness seemed to rule the day. Their laughter and humor didn't diminish or invalidate my troubles. But it did let me know, that in the midst of my troubles, I wasn't alone. If my life was at floodstage, they'd be there to ride it out with me. With a fishing pole in hand.