Bubba

Last Thursday night, when I was thinking  about what my next blog entry would be, I was pretty sure it was going to be a light-hearted look at some of the fun we encountered while trying to get home during the worst rainstorms I’ve ever seen.  I had some cool video of our road under a foot of raging water, which forced us to detour to my brother’s house for dinner.  I had some unbelievable shots of my brother’s backyard, where the running water was just about to the top of his backyard trampoline.  K had a great story about how it took her hours to get home because the 6-lane, major road outside our neighborhood was completely blocked by water spilling over the top of a normally-empty run-off pond.

But all those things seem trivial compared to the pain our community is feeling, particularly the pain felt by a 12 year old girl we affectionately call Bubba.

Bubba one of is my nieces.  She and several of our church members’ children attend a small Christian private school near our house.  She has known most of the 9 members of her 7th grade class since they were all 5 years old in kindergarten.  To say they were close knit would be an understatement.  She was particularly close to one 12 year old boy in the class.

On Thursday night, this boy ventured a little too close to the flood-waters from a backyard creek, and was killed.

Now, I cannot imagine what his parents are going through.  And I grew up down the street from his church, where I’m sure the sanctuary is packed with mourners for his funeral, which will take place in a half hour from now.  And I know this tight-knit school, the one that cancelled classes so the school could attend the funeral, is reeling from his loss.

But today, I’m thinking mostly about my niece and the unexplainable heartache she is feeling.

I’m praying for you, Bubba.

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