THROUGH THE WATERS

Everyone has a favourite “flood story” of 20th July, and most of them are a great deal more dramatic than mine, but, be that as it may, I'll not forget that Friday for a different reason.

My friend and I were going to a Quiet Day at Offa House. It was raining hard as we drove up the Fosse Way to Offchurch. As I watched the rain coming down harder and harder, I did rather wonder how my Nissan Micra was going to manage on the way back - poor little thing, it had only just survived the indignity of being hauled out of the Royal Show mud by a tractor!

When we started on our journey home, at 4 o'clock, we realised how bad the situation was. Although my friend doesn't drive, she was very much aware of the hazards, and was a wonderfully strong and quiet support, but as the flooding grew worse we realised we both needed to pray - hard. I remember saying aloud, “Dear Lord, who parted the Red Sea for the Israelites - please get us through this.” Then suddenly the words came to me: “Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by your name; you are mine.”

I was aware of my friend praying quietly, and suddenly I wasn't afraid any more - well, to be quite honest, I was a bit nervous because I had never driven through such floods before. But we both felt we were being held in God's love. As I went into the first really deep flood, I knew I was being told firmly - “Keep in second gear, revv hard and go slowly!” We got through. There were quite long queues in some

places as people waited for traffic coming from the other direction, so no one's engine was swamped - well, some were, and cars much larger than mine were marooned at the side of the road. All went well until we came to the roundabout by Bronson Hill - across the Fosse Way exit was a notice, “Road Closed”. We decided to try Ashorne - the village centre was impassable, so back again to the main road, to try the route through Gaydon. Still, although it was frustrating, we both had that feeling that all was well. As we inched along towards Gaydon, it was as if a voice said, “Try Lighthorne”; so I did. We got through, and up to the Fosse Way, over it, and down Staple Hill. Nearly home!

Then my friend said, “Oh look, the water isn't so bad here.” “No, dear, it's all gone to the bottom of the hill!” I muttered. And it had. But again - go slow. Keep rowing - “Do not be afraid...” Somehow we got though - only to see at the junction with Kineton Road a large notice warning us not to go up Staple Hill!

Once we got home we realised how much worse off were many other people in the village, and those trying to get home. In the weeks since then, we have read of the terrible floods in the Indian sub-continent, with 3,000 people homeless, and many more injured or dead. Our own flood stories are put into perspective. But I shall remember the day not so much for a horrible journey but for the feeling of calm, of being held by the God who promised that “if you pass through the waters I'll be with you.” And so He was.

Sara Serpell