The feelings got here in like a flood: sudden, overwhelming, and unimaginable to contain. So did the tears. With every latest piece of knowledge, the burden grew heavier. The heartbreak ran deeper. We’ve all been there; those moments when life shifts all of sudden, and also you’re left standing within the wreckage of trauma, loss, or grief.
A recent flood of heartbreak hit on July 4. I live in the gorgeous Hill Country of Texas, a spot that’s normally peaceful and restorative. But the devastation that swept through our community was a stark reminder that life can change right away. It stirred something deeper in me, echoes of one other time when the world felt uncertain.
When I moved here from Chicago in 2021, it was the center of the pandemic, one other heartbreaking season none of us will ever forget. The fear. The frustration. The fatigue. That chapter also revealed something I hadn’t yet named: a struggle with anxiety. I remember clinging to Scriptures and worship songs about peace, desperately attempting to still my mind and quiet the noise around me.
That same flooded soul feeling: racing thoughts, inner chaos, the ache of uncertainty, hit me again this past Independence Day weekend. There’s something about living through a literal flood that makes spiritual storms feel much more tangible. One moment, the world is familiar. The next, it’s unrecognizable. Grief moves in where safety used to live. Hope that was once regular starts to tremble. And the soul begins to ache for something familiar, something solid to carry onto again.
We all know the sensation; when you may’t breathe, can’t think straight, and every little thing looks like an excessive amount of. You need to act, but you don’t know what to do. You need to grieve, but words won’t come. You want peace, but anxiety is louder. In these moments, I’m learning that accessing God’s peace isn’t optional; it’s critical. Philippians 4:7 says,
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
That verse has develop into a lifeline for me. It jogs my memory that peace shouldn’t be the results of every little thing feeling great and even making sense. In fact, I’ve learned from this verse that peace is primarily found once we release our right to know, and that may be hard. We need to know why the storm got here and when it should be over. We need to know details: the how, the what, the answers. But unfortunately, asking “why” on repeat often results in deeper anxiety, not deeper peace.
After the floods, similar to throughout the pandemic, I made a choice: I won’t live stuck within the query of “why.” I’ll live in faith. Like Peter stepping out of the boat, I would like to maintain my eyes fixed on Jesus, not the wind and waves around me. I could falter. My vision may blur. But I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep His Word hidden in my heart in order that when the floodwaters rise- spiritually, emotionally, or physically, I can respond with courage and clarity.
Here are seven Scriptures which have been an anchor for me through seasons of each literal and spiritual flooding. If your soul feels submerged, I pray these verses lift you, regular you, and carry you toward healing, just as they’ve supported me in life’s hardest storms.
Photo Credit: Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas/Pexels
