I grew up as a valley girl. An East Tennessee valley girl, which is the best kind.
By now, most of you probably know I was raised on my maternal Papaw’s farm. It’s located in a valley with ridgelines that run along the southern and western sides with Bull Run Creek flowing through it. On the other sides, the ridgelines are a little further away. It makes for quite the view. And it made for quite the excitement at times, especially with the weather.
A good example of this was a story my mom used to tell me that happened when she was a child. One spring day, Papaw had been mowing a field somewhere off of Brushy Valley Road. On his way home, a little stray rain shower got behind him as he drove down the valley.
Mom said they saw him when he crossed over Bull Run Creek. The little rain cloud was right behind Papaw and he had his tractor going as fast as it would go. Smoke was billowing out of it and he kept looking back at the pursing rain. It not only followed him up the road, but up the driveway and to the barn. He pulled inside just in the nick of time and didn’t get wet.
I always thought that story was funny; that is until it happened to me years later. No, I wasn’t on a tractor. I had Sara playing outside in the front yard. At this time, she was three years old. I happen to glance toward the ridgeline that is further away from us and noticed something odd. I couldn’t see any of the trees or the creek. That’s when I realized it was a heavy rain shower that was heading straight for us.
Knowing Sara couldn’t run at my pace, I snatched her up and ran as hard as I could toward our covered front porch. As Mamaw Jo used to say, I was running like the Devil was after me.
As I ran, I kept looking back. Unlike Papaw’s rain shower, this one was moving very fast and closing in on us. It seemed like I would never reach the porch. That’s when I really understood the old saying of being so close and yet so far away. My heart was pounding in my chest. I wondered if Papaw felt that way all those years ago.
As we neared the porch, I began to hear the intense rainfall. I held Sara out in front of me and shoved her safely onto the porch as my foot touched the first step. That’s also the moment the rain caught up with us. While Sara was nice and dry, the back of me was cold and soaking wet.
“So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.” Hebrews 13:6 (KJV)
Looking back, I have to laugh. There was no reason for me to be so anxious about us getting wet. We could’ve easily dried off and put on dry clothes. Sara would have probably gotten a kick out of it. Besides, it’s not like we were going to melt. But don’t we all do that as we go through life. We become upset and afraid of things we shouldn’t because we seem to forget that The Lord is indeed our helper.
I have to admit, I do still run from the rain, especially when I am walking our dog, Roxy. But now I don’t get so upset about it. I just laugh and duck as Roxy shakes off the excess water.