A Prayer for My City

God, what do you think you are doing?
Many times I can write off bad times as the result of a broken humanity;
but rains that seemed never ending?
I think you are on the hot seat for this one.
Yes, I know, nature happens, and we have very little understanding of the stuff of our world,
but there are a lot of people suffering tonight,
a lot of people scared,
a lot of people whose hope is challenged,
a lot of people questioning their belief that you never give more than we can handle.
If I sound a little ticked off, it’s because I am.
A day watching poor people throwing all their ruined belongings in the street will do that to a man.
So does looking at pictures of places I love now destroyed,
destroyed by that which is necessary for life.
This sucks, God.
Sorry, I said it, but it’s true.
It’s true when you fall through the floor of a trailer because the flooring is so saturated with water that it can’t hold you.
It’s true when the flood water subside and everything inside the house is covered with mud.
It’s true when the mold comes — the deep, black fungi that seek to take over the home.
It’s true when you know that a city — my city — is put on the ropes by something that has never happened before.
It’s very true when you read the story of a 21 year old father whose only failing was that he worried so much about the   well being of his kids that he challenged the rising waters and lost the battle.
And yet,
you still are God,
and as we find ourselves by the rivers of Babylon weeping,
you take that which sucks and wring out the good things,
things like people from different nationalities and faiths working together to empty a house,
things like inmates and students working cooperatively to sandbag a water plant to keep water going,
things like people opening their homes and their hearts to those in need.
So God, if you will,
take some time off from the water business and get on with the heart transformation business,
leading brother and sister to transcend the mud and mold,
and rebuild something even better.
And God, if you will,
keep an eye on my city,
cause it’s home and I love it.
Dry it out and lead us to new depths of love and care.
Amen.