Yah Willin', If The Creek Don't Rise

I thought I would share a funny story with you that was shared with me, by a dear friend of mine.  (You can see them in our Memorizing Scripture Section - as they have done the Het and Lamed Portions of Psalm 119!) They live on a rural property that requires crossing a river to enter and exit.  This is acually fairly common in our community - as many of us our homesteading.   (Another family in our community had their collection system washed away inthis same storm on their off grid farm!  Last year, We got stuck crossing yet another family's creek trying to enter their property in our 15 passenger van one (cold water) winter day.  Their team of work horses pulled us out that day!)  Anyway, last week we had a series or stormy days in succession.  When you live on a property like that - your freedom and flexibility is subject to the condition of the river that you must cross.  You learn quickly to "step in time" with Creation and your Creator when living this way. We meet at this family's home once a month for Shabbat Fellowship, "Ya willin', if the creek don't rise". The Pappa (Gary) of this family travels to work daily "Yah willin', if the creek don't rise" (but if it does he works from home remotely).  It's a different way of life - but they wouldn't trade it for anything, because they know it is what Yah has called their family to do.

The following is the tale of this last storm, as written my "the momma" (Nancy) as she needed to get in and out of the property during a storm to pick up a very important package that could not wait.  She wrote this in response to friends who were inquiring as to their condition during the storm - to see if they needed anything. (I share it with permission of course!)

We had ordered some baby chicks through the mail and knew that when they came in we'd need to get them from the post office right away and get them under the heat-lamp setup we'd made for them. Well, this morning at 8:00 -- after rain had been pouring for a couple of hours -- I got the call from the postman that the chicks had arrived. Knowing I didn't have much time to get them before the creek might be too high to cross, I grabbed the boys and we all jumped in the van to get the chicks. We had to go across town to the co-op to get some feed and supplies before getting the chicks, and when we got back to Green Acres, the creek was too high for the van to go back across.

After consulting with Gary and deciding that the back-road-route was not an option, the boys and I took to the trail on foot. We wrapped the chick-box in the wool sweater I'd been wearing and charged Jonathan with the safe transport of the chicks. Chris shouldered the fairly heavy block of wood shavings we needed for them, and I toted the bag of chick feed along with my purse (which some of you know is the heaviest item of the lot, mind you.) We all then started on the approx. 1-mile trek that would get us home without having to swim the creek. In a heavy rain that had us drenched not long after we left the car, we walked up the road, down the railroad tracks, across the creek via the railroad bridge, down the steep, muddy railroad embankment, across/through a swollen side creek, and through the woods toward home. We were all quite a site. My denim skirt was hilarious -- like wearing a wet bedspread. I have to say I'm proud of my boys, as they joined in with good spirits.  We trekked along singing songs like, "Detour, There's a Muddy Road Ahead," making a grand adventure of our wet journey. We finally arrived home safely with the chicks, who seemed none the worse for the soggy wear, and we got them all settled in just fine.  They are living in luxury in Granny's bathtub, thanks to her generous and venturesome spirit.  '-)

Meanwhile, Gary had decided he'd better head home while he still had a chance of crossing the creek. Not long before he got home we all saw Shalu (The Family Dog - Pyraneese ) standing on the other side of the creek, unsure of how to get home.  Gary was able to join up with her and take her with him in the truck. He soon found out, though, that all road route options were "out" for his truck as well, and he and Shalu had to take to the trail on foot like we'd had to do. They chose to go a different route, though, hoping to avoid having to cross the swollen side creek the boys and I had had to cross. Little did they know, though, that their choice was even more challenging. Their route took them to the bridge down-road from us that crosses Mill Creek, but that bridge had already begun to be covered with water, and water had flooded around the bridge as well, causing rather deep spots on either side. Long story, but picture Gary -- in his khakis and zero-tread dress shoes -- wading across hip-high water with one hand on Shalu's collar and one hand holding his laptop up high to keep it out of the water. I don't know if Shalu has ever swum before, but if not she has now. Gary said she seemed to know he was there to help, and she trusted his encouragement to swim along with him.

Well, the two of them made it back safe and sound. We've all now been dried, hot-chocolated, and souped and are relishing a cozy afternoon in a warm, dry house. Our "16 head of livestock" (as Gary likes to put it) are snug and happy as well, and we are all thankful for the safety and memorable moments Yah provided for us today. Thanks for checking in on us, Luci. We pray you are all fairing well with the weather. We will look forward to seeing you all soon "Yah willin' and if the creek don't rise!"

Love,
Nancy