Wave after wave sweeps over me:
a friend’s niece with seven days or less to receive a heart transplant,
a dad with young children suffering a series of strokes,
return trips to detox and rehab,
a toddler’s cancer surgery,
early onset Alzheimer’s stealing a family’s mom and grandma,
white blood counts so low chemo can’t be administered
and questions without answers.
In between sets, I find myself treading water and reaching for words like hope and peace and joy.
I reach for them not as life preservers to temporarily keep my head above water—I don’t reach for them with my hands at all. I reach for them with my feet searching for solid ground beneath me.
Because the waves keep coming. The unthinkable situations keep rolling into the lives of those I love. Sometimes they pull us under. But the waves are not all that is real. Terra firma exists.
It is real.
My toes touch it when I sink into truth: “The Lord is near.”
And my feet find their footing.
“The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Hope. Peace. Joy.