Rainbow

We arrived at St. Peter's Cathedral in downtown Scranton at 4:30 for the 5 p.m. Mass.

My wife and I had just spent the day assessing the damage to our house caused by a flood. It's the second flood in seven months we've had in this house that's about three hours north and has been for sale for almost a year. 

I prayed for guidance. I prayed for wisdom. I prayed for help. 

The first reading was from Genesis, about what happened immediately after the flood waters receded in the story of Noah.

The priest started his homily with, "We are all familiar with the destructive power of water," then proceded to tell a story of two of his friends whose West Pittston home was inundated in one of the most recent hurricanes to hit NEPA.

A key line: The wife was crying over a water-soaked wedding photo, and the husband said: "Don't cry for anything that can't cry for you."

Another key line: The priest, in relating back to the story of Noah, stated that God made a covenant with humanity, saying he would never again destroy the earth by flood. 

I damn-near cried.

This is certainly not the first time I've had strange coincidences happen to me that seemingly offered guidance, wisdom and, ultimately, help.

When light hits water the right way, the result is a rainbow. 

Artsy flood shot of my garage shortly after we arrived.

No coincidences

Throughout my life, there have been times I've felt like I was being called to do something.

Little omens would pop up. Something that seemed totally random and out of place would show up before me, hinting which direction I should take. 

I've almost always listened to these signs. And, almost always, things have worked out. 

The problem: Sometimes, you get things you think probably are omens, but you're not sure toward what you're being directed. 

Fight on

Depression is a hard thing to battle. 

The only way out, though, seems to be through. 

If you're battling, too, know you're not alone.