At 3:30 Friday afternoon
I got an email from someone at The Venue
Wondering if we wanted to cancel The Show.
Because of the flash flood warnings!
Um.
No!
Wait maybe.
Do we?
I checked myself with the team.
Mitch said no.
Jamie said no.
So no.
Right? Right.
No we do not want to cancel the show.
Meaning yes.
To doing the show.
Despite the flooding.
Or maybe even because of it.

It’s possible we weren’t thinking clearly
The rain was so loud
The vertical river rushing
To meet the roof
The windows
The palms.
So loud
We could barely hear
Our phones alerting us
With that squeal
We’ve all come to dread.
So loud
A kind of sonic bath
That flowed through time and space and ether/or-ness
And washed away all resistance.
Sometimes the water forces you in.
Shuts the doors.
Lights the fires.
Wraps the blanket around you.
Even serves you the hot chocolate.

But no.
In this case it called us out.

Water works
In mysterious ways.
I’m not saying water is God
But I’m not saying it isn’t.

Metaphysically
Water has the quality of mercy.
You know how sometimes
You long for a shower
Where you can forget
And then remember.
Forgive and be forgiven.

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