We had a rather relaxed drive on our trip back home. Didn’t leave until well after 9. On the way back we saw evidence of some pretty massive flooding. Fortunately, it was relegated to wide open spaces like cattle grazing land. Poor cattle, though.
Speaking of open spaces, we took a little short cut on our way to Buc-ees. It wound through some of that ranch land. Lots of cattle, and a really large ranch with a chicken in its logo. We even saw Camp Allen, an Episcopal church camp I went to when I was a teenager. Apparently the big flyover bridge we usually take was being worked on … or under. But never fear. We made safely to our Beaver-ish destination.
From there things were going swimmingly … until they started actually going swimmingly. Houston was engulfed by a huge mass of thunderstorms. The city was under a flash flood warning. It had been having hundreds of lightning strikes per hour. By the time we arrived, though, there was a break in the rain. Not so much in the traffic. That was still about comparable to a typical rush hour … at 1:30 p.m. Chris is an amazing driver, though. She navigated the mess like a champ.
Colossians 1:13 says, He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son He loves.
Father, please keep the folks safe who have to be driving in the storms. And keep our own travelers safe coming home. Caleb, Josiah, Brennan. Amen.
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