My old-fashioned radio, that annoyingly loud siren, and even the good-looking news reporter on my television all spoke in unison: Rebecca was going to single-handedly kill me and destroy my home.
Category 5, they said. Catastrophic. Leave everything behind and get out.
Crazy.
I wasn’t going to die from a storm. Let alone one named Rebecca. There wasn’t one way in hell that the weathermen or the government or anyone at all could get me to leave everything behind. My home. My earthly possessions. It was my God-given right to stay here on my property. How could I be so sure I was safe? Well, this was not the first hardship of this sort that I had faced. Many years ago, when my kids still lived with me, we tried to burn some old disposable textbooks at the end of the school year. I thought it would be a nice easy way to get rid of them. Maybe roast some marshmallows too. Those stacks of paper were stubborn, let me tell you. I tried to use a firestarter, but it just charred the edges. Nothing seemed to be getting them to light entirely. I was getting so mad that I might’ve ignited myself when my son suggested that I open the books instead of keeping them closed like bricks. He said it would let more oxygen into the tightly packed paper or something. I didn’t know exactly what he meant, but I was desperate for something to work at that point. So I lifted up the cover of one of the textbooks and tried lighting just one page. Sure enough, it ignited easily just like paper usually does. I was relieved for a moment. That is, until a flaming piece of the page flew up out of the firepit and into the grass. Suddenly, fire was everywhere. By the time the fire department came, half of my house had been devoured by flame. Pretty much every one of my belongings was destroyed. Except for one thing. The Bible I kept sitting closed on my nightstand was left untouched by the flame. Now, if that isn’t evidence that I’m being protected, I don’t know what is.
So yeah, I’m going to be staying in my own home and protecting my own property instead of running from this crazy storm they’re all freaking out about.
“...winds averaging 100 miles per hour. There will be lots of flooding,” the disembodied voice on the radio said. I could barely make out the words over the wailing siren and the rain that had started to pour. It was nothing worth listening to anyways.
“Everyone must evacuate immediately,” the radio yammered on, sounding like a broken record. They were blowing it all out of proportion. I didn’t care what the weathermen said. There’s no way a storm could be that deadly. Especially one named Rebecca. I got up from my couch and took a good look out my window. I’ll give the weathermen credit where it’s due: it was in fact raining pretty hard. I could barely see out the window, but it was clear that there was a whole lot of water welling up in the street. Good thing I was here and ready to protect my dear belongings from the flooding. How could people think I’m crazy for not listening to the weirdos on TV? I walked back to my couch and let the rain the radio was freaking out about become soothing background noise.
Suddenly, I heard a voice:
“You were right to stay back. Everyone else was overreacting.”
I jumped and looked around. That wasn’t from the radio. It sounded like it was coming from outside, and it lacked that static sound that the radio had. Instead, it sounded smooth. Almost songlike. Just as I was about to start seriously wondering if I was hearing things, I heard the voice again:
“You are safe here. Nothing will hurt you.”
The voice was beautiful. Something about it was profoundly comforting. I have no idea what it could possibly be coming from, but it was totally real. Thinking about the book I had on my nightstand, I formed a suspicion. And I will say, this suspicion felt very plausible: this voice must be an angel. Some spiritual being sent to protect me. What else could explain a beautiful disembodied voice? Any semblance of fear that was within me went away for good. I walked over to the table where the radio sat. It was still babbling on and on about wind speed and storm surges and flooding. Weather jargon. None of it settled in my head. I picked it up and threw it with all my might into the floor. The last sound it made was a loud crash that came when its broken pieces scattered. I didn’t need the radio. I didn’t need meteorologists or whatever they call ‘em to tell me what to be scared of.
Because I knew I didn’t need to be scared of any storm.
I was being protected by a divine being.
The voice rang again:
“That’s right. You only need to listen to me.”
I was now sure the voice was telling the truth.
More and more water filled the street. I could tell that it was flooding for real. Debris and stuff were flowing with the water. I could have sworn I saw a few fish drawn in from the ocean. But I was not scared in the slightest. The singsong voice continued speaking to me. Telling me I would be safe. It seemed to get louder and louder as the water rose. Soon, the water was up at my door. It began to leak into my home. The angelic voice was as loud as ever:
“You are safe here in your home.”
“There is no need to try to escape.”
“You are smarter than all those other people.”
Water was now gushing into my home. I did nothing but giggle. I was safe! I hopped onto the couch to avoid getting my feet wet and watched the water break down my door and flood my house like it was a majestic waterfall. I had no reason to fear as the water inched up towards me. Debris from the ocean or broken houses or wherever else decorated the ever increasing water. The water creeped closer and closer with each passing moment. What a miracle it was that an angel was protecting me!
“The flooding won’t hurt you.”
The voice rang out again, but this time it sounded closer. Almost like it was coming from inside the house now. I looked around, wondering if the angel speaking to me had some kind of physical form.
There was a head sticking out of the water. A woman’s head. Very much alive, and not at all dirtied by the floodwater. Perhaps another blessed soul like me. Before I could get a word out of my mouth, two large birdlike wings lifted out of the water. They were hers. I saw her open her mouth as I heard the heavenly voice once again.
“You’re not in any danger.”
There was not a doubt in my head. There was no fear in my veins. I leapt into the floodwater. Dirt in my eyes, water all over my face, I had no reason to fear. Something hit my leg. It might have been a piece of that stupid radio. The radio that rattled on about stuff that wasn’t worth believing in. I had something better to count on. Something greater. Something divine. As water filled my entire world and air grew as scarce as fear, I felt nothing but a solid sense of trust.