THOUGHTFUL THURSDAY 

Knock-Knock…Who’s There?

When I was about 4 or 5 years old, we lived in a little wooden house in Middlesboro, Kentucky. There were four houses in a row. Ours was the last house along the row. The road continued past our house, curved around, and there were two houses on the hill above us. One belonged to Mrs. Carroll, and the other to Old Man Jones.  Across the road from our house , was Old Man Jones' cornfield. Beyond the cornfield was Yellow Creek. 
It was really a very peaceful and pleasant neighborhood, except for a couple of times a year.

These houses were in the flood plain.  When the banks of Yellow Creek began to swell, they swelled quickly, and we had to take action.

This particular time, it had rained for several days.  We were all asleep one night, when we heard a pounding at our door. BAM! BAM! BAM! “Get up! Get up! The creek is rising! Wake up!" 
It was well after midnight.  My mom and dad got up, turned on the lights and opened the front door.  It was Old Man Jones.  "You'd better get your family out! This is going to be a bad one!" He said.  By this time, the children were up and awake, too.  I looked out the door.  The glow from our front porch light reached to the other side of the road. I could see that the water was already in the yard, lapping at the far side of the dirt road.

" I'll start the car," said Daddy. "Alice, anything you want to save, you'd better put up high!" Daddy was busy loading the car.  My sister, Bonnie lived in another part of town, and we were going to go to her house.  Daddy had sent my brother to help Old Man Jones wake up the rest of the neighbors.  As everyone was busy with some task necessary for our great escape, I knew to just be quiet and stay out of the way.  As I looked out the door, I could see that the water had crossed the road, and was licking the bottom of our steps which led up to the front porch.  My mother appeared in the doorway. "I've done all that I can do," she said. "Are you about ready?" 

By this time, my brother was back. He and my sister, Faye, got in the car.  The flood waters were now at the top of the steps, just getting ready to arrive on our front porch. I was not afraid at all.  I was simply watching everything unfold, and I just knew that we would be okay.

Daddy came toward me, wearing his big black rubber boots, scooped me up in his arms, and carried me to safety, and we sped off into the night, to continue our big adventure.

I have had many "Floods" throughout my lifetime...not in the literal sense, but symbolically.  Whether it was a financial crisis, health issue, a lost friendship, or some decision hanging overhead, I knew that my Heavenly Father has strong arms, and He will carry me to safety.  I am not afraid. 

As this memory came flooding back, I am ever reminded of the peace in the midst of the storm. I am reminded that many times in the scriptures, we are told to, “Fear not…” One of my favorite verses is:

“Have I not commanded you, be strong and courageous, do not be afraid, do not be discouraged, for the Lord God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

I am so thankful that God used Old Man Jones to knock on our door, and wake us up! He probably saved our lives. Many of us need a wake-up call today. 

There is a scripture in Revelation that says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him, and eat with him, and he with me.” Rev. 3:20

How about you? Have you put your trust in Him…your Heavenly Father? Are you listening for his knock on the door of your heart? Will you answer?

HAVE A GREAT THURSDAY!