Lord Willing and the Creek Don’t Rise

I’m not a religious person and wasn’t raised in a particularly religious family. My mother and grandmother were churchgoers, Presbyterian and Methodist, respectively. How did that happen I wonder. My wife is religious although not the service going sort. Not for lack of trying but I guess compatibility is an important thing when it comes to churches. No, I’m not religious but that hasn’t stopped this phrase from being embedded into my consciousness.

Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.

If you haven’t heard it, I suspect it’s the religious version of Knock on Wood. In my family, it was always said to ward off doom. That the car would have enough gas, that the paycheck was enough to cover food and the mortgage, that the grades would be good enough to get their oldest out of the house and to college. That’s me, that last one. And the answer was barely. That creek sure did come close.

I found myself thinking that phrase often in the last two weeks. That my breathing wouldn’t get worse. Or, that the kitchen renovation would go off as planned (more on that later). But mostly, that RR wouldn’t come down with COVID. We masked in the house and we stayed six feet away from one another. She was tested every three days and negative every time. It was this last test that had me close to prayer. Let it have been enough. It have been 14 days since she has been at school. 14 days since she has been out of the house for anything except walking the dog. 14 days of masks, eating alone, and no hugs. 14 days of every so often tears.

Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, that last test will be negative.

And it’s finally over. That test is negative. I’ve nearly found religion.

One Response

  1. Hallelujah!

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