When the Waters Rise

Crash. Pound. Crash. Pound. The waves have beat mercilessly against the shore of my little life today. This body of water, typically so majestic and powerful in lovely ways, has turned insistent and almost brutal.

I know my experience is not unlike tens of thousands who have heard these words before. But when it becomes personal, and the whole shoreline shifts, you instantly receive new ears and the waves grate, their sound is no longer a pleasing rush but a demanding roar.

I'm not alone, (nor are any of us), we who have been tsunami surprised that a precious one is gravely ill, and who have to immediately see the world in “new” ways. Clinical ways. Ways that suggest hope-”This is very treatable”. And then the paradox- “He's got a big fight ahead”.

Danger, the flag flies on the beach. The undertow here is life threatening. Oh, I feel it. It doesn't just bury my feet as the briny sea curls around the back of my ankles, incrementally drawing me down in the sand. Although I am only ankle deep, the waves threaten to drown me.

“Laura, he has Leukemia.” First a bone marrow biopsy and then, most likely, a willing walk into the abyss of chemotherapy. So much has changed in less than a day. Horizons loom and the unexpected squall is suddenly and powerfully in charge.

Dad

Salt stings my eyes-my own and the deep deep sea's. I yield - make sure I don't rush through the moment because I've learned that the blessing may be right here, when the waters rise and the benign sand becomes a malignant mire.

Why do I counsel my heart with words like, “Well, if there's ever been a time to live what you believe, it's now?” Of course that's true. But, humility instantly renders me ashamed, recognizing the fundamental proposition of that kind of self talk, suggesting that I get to determine (based on circumstances) what events call for faith.

Fight or Flight. Conventional wisdom suggests that I will make a choice for one or the other in the current of this roiling water. And given the Creator's design, it's true I will do both, sometimes concurrently.

Faith. That is the life preserver, the protector of my heart. God's living Word – praise, poem, prose leaping off the page, and petition beating back the waves.

Sea shifts. Hasn't changed really. Creation always bears testimony to it's Maker, and for a minute I was fooled, but now I'm found.

Ocean depths are a comfort as they remind that even in their vast measure, they only dimly reflect the riches of the Father's love for me.

Currents no longer threaten, but give comfort, although powerful and I am incapable of standing against them, they are directed by a Loving Hand who works for good at ALL times. God controls the seas and I need not fear.

This is very uncomfortable, but having been lost in the waters before, I won't quit the shore. I will raise my hands and say, “Bless the Lord, O my soul and all that is within me, bless his holy name!”