I ignored the flash of lightning and tried to hide my concern about the heavy pattering of rain as I helped my toddler into her pajamas.
My husband headed downstairs to check how the drain in our driveway was doing. He returned with good news. The drain was keeping up with the rain. No sign of flooding.
Cheerfully, my husband proceeded with our toddler’s bedtime routine while I prepared to settle our baby for the night.
Once our toddler was in bed, my husband decided to check the drain again. His return wasn’t so quick this time.
Instead of hearing his footsteps coming, my phone buzzed. He had sent me a video.
It was a 3 second video of water flowing over the doormat just outside our door.
That’s not good!
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a photo of water beginning to seep under our garage door.
I hurried to finish putting the baby down.
Before I finished, my husband came in.
“I pulled the drain cover off. It’s working now.” He crossed the room.
“Good!” I replied.
“The next door neighbours opened their door at the same time,” he continued. “They swept off their drain. It’s working now as well.”
He reached for his flashlight.
“The main drain on the street is backing up. If it doesn’t get moving, it’ll flood soon and then our drain won’t be able to keep up.”
“Uh oh.”
“I’m going back out.”
“Okay. I’ll come too.”
By the time I got downstairs (baby monitor in hand), my husband had pulled on rubber boots and a raincoat and was heading outside with a broom.
I followed suit.
When I got outside, I spotted my husband standing some distance away on another neighbour’s driveway. The lightning had moved on, but the rain still poured down.
I glanced at our drain. It was keeping up, but the water on the road was nearing the brink. Soon it might overflow to our little drain. Then what?
I watched my husband gesturing. Evidently he could see the neighbour through the window.
From where I stood, I could see why this neighbour hadn’t opened their door. A lake of water, deeper than their doorstep, pressed against their door.
Something must be wrong with their drain.
Spotting me, my husband came over.
“He already has his drain cover off, but it’s still not working. He’s mopping inside his door.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Not really since his drain isn’t working.”
Gesturing toward the growing pond on the road, my husband continued.
“I tried to get the main drain going. I stuck the broom handle down as far as it could reach, but there was nothing. The jam must be further down, or the volume of water is simply too much for the drainage system. If it gets much higher, we’ll be in trouble.”
Just then, a car drove by. The wave it caused in the pool crested over the edge of our driveway and down towards our drain. Thankfully it was a small wave.
We spotted yet another neighbour staring at his driveway drain from a distance. We walked over.
Evidently he’d used the door on the other side of his house to get out. The pool on his driveway was several inches up his front door and his garage door.
My husband offered to try to help.
The man shrugged. “You can try, but I don’t think anything will help. I have an inch of water in my garage already.”
My husband poked at the drain with the broom handle to no avail.
We stood chatting with the man as we helplessly watched the pool of water.
Eventually we noticed that the water line was receding slowly, very slowly.
I glanced back at the road. That puddle, too, was draining away.
Our property had weathered the storm sufficiently, unlike some of our neighbours who now had to deal with clean up and repairs. The question on our minds was “How can we prepare now to make sure our home isn’t the one flooding next time.”
It wasn’t until nearly a week later, as I was praying about which allegory to write, that I noticed the lesson for me.
When I think of the rain as all the wear and tear of life, and the drain as my ability to pass those burdens to the Lord, the story holds a significant reminder.
God has invited me to cast all my cares upon Him. No, that’s not the right way to put it. “Invited” is too soft a word for it. I am instructed to cast my cares upon Him (1 Peter 5:7).
Am I casting my cares upon the Lord?
In the light rain shower of day-to-day life, only a small amount of water reaches my drain. If my drain (my ability to cast my cares upon Jesus) is slow, but existent, I can handle the small day-to-day trials without getting backed up or overwhelmed.
Even if my drain were totally clogged, the small puddle would dry up when the sun comes out and no one would know the difference.
The real test comes when a storm hits. Can my drain handle the huge volume of rain that gushes towards it? Or does a lake form, seeping into my home and thus causing damage.
In such a situation, sandbags could temporarily help. I could protect myself from water damage, but sandbags would also block the use of my door. I’d be cutting myself off from the good as well as the harm.
Indeed, even two weeks after the aforementioned storm, as I walked by my neighbour’s house, I noticed sandbags piled against her door. This rendered the door impassable, though the day was warm and sunny.
I don’t want to rely on sandbags to hold the water out. I want my drain to work so that I can give my burdens to Jesus.
Is there anything I can do now to help prepare for the storms of life that will undoubtedly come?
Yes.
For our driveway drain, keeping the area swept clean from debris – pinecones, flower petals, leaves, and so on – helps keep it from clogging.
Perhaps this symbolizes keeping my life free from sin (no matter how seemingly small) and grounded in the truth of God’s Word.
Sharing times of fellowship with other Christians certainly helps as well. We hadn’t known that we ought to sweep our driveway or that our drain cover could be removed until we observed a neighbour tending to his drain.
Sometimes, however, there is a deep underlying problem in my ability to cast my cares upon Jesus. In such cases, seeking help from a pastor, Christian counsellor, or other mature Christian may be needed.
This parallels the situation for my neighbours whose driveways flooded. A couple of days after the storm, I spotted a plumber assessing their clogged drains. Their clog was too big for them to fix on their own.
Oh, that I may learn to keep my drain functioning well so that when the storm comes, I may say with David:
“The LORD is my strength and my shield;
my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped.
Therefore my heart celebrates,
and I give thanks to Him with my song.”
Psalm 28:7 CSB
If you would like a real-life example of what this looks like, I highly recommend the book: “Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret” by Dr. Howard Taylor and Geraldine Taylor. It is available as a paperback, an audiobook, or on Kindle.
