You are in the midst of deep waters.
A flood of deep waters and every time you feel the water recede another tsunami wave comes.
Water and hopelessness – burning your lungs as you cry out and the spit and sputter at the surface as it rolls over your head only to have another come and crash over you, driving you below the surface.
The only hope in the dark and merciless storms. Under the tumultuous seas. The hope of a life vest, the hope of a raft. The hope of rescue when all you can see is the waves. The hope that though we are battered and buffeted we are NOT destroyed.
When I was a small child my surfer brother would take me to the beach. He would carry me in his strong arms out in what seemed like the deepest part of the sea for a little girl. He would stand there like a pillar in the ocean. He would point out to the open ocean and warn me a wave was on its way and when it was upon me he would say, “Quick, hold your breath!” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the wave. It terrified me growing as I watched it grow to a towering monster ready to consume me. I cried out in fear as it loomed above me. Again he would say “HOLD YOUR BREATH”, but I didn’t. “But the wave! The Wave!” I would yell in my baby voice. It would slam over us as I would cling to him crying, sputtering, coughing. “Why didn’t you hold your breath?” He would ask me. “I was scared!” I cried.
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I have you, honey. I love you and nothing, Nothing will take you out of my hands.
Instead of focusing on the waves cresting, growing, towering above ready to crash down on us we have to keep our eyes on Him. Jesus. Nothing can pluck us from His hands.
Every flood of trouble remakes the topography of our souls making us better or bitter. ~ Ann Voscamp
How does this provide hope in your current storm?