Sometimes I have to wonder at Kansas weather patterns. I mean, I expect it to be strange, but Kansas doesn’t just do strange weather. Kansas does extreme strange weather, at least in my neck of the woods. A storm spotter I work with tells me I live in the Bermuda Triangle of weather patterns because if it’s a bad storm and it’s in Kansas, it will find its way to my house. In the last few weeks, if you looked at the radar at all, you probably saw one of the crazy windy, heavy rainfall producing storms that decided to park over my house. And I’m just going to be honest: I’m sick to death of having to clean the water out of the basement.
We never used to have trouble with flooding, but a lot of different issues are playing a role in why the water keeps coming in–namely there’s just so much of it. One storm dropped six inches in an hour. That was the one I missed because I was in St. Louis, and my awesome parents came out and cleaned up for me. We’re scheduled for more rain this morning, tonight, and tomorrow night, and Friday morning too. Then, we’ll get a brief break before it all comes back down again on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.
Dad’s trying to get everything sealed up this morning, but when you’re talking about that much rain, I’m just not convinced that anything can be done to stop it. And I’m doing my best to fight off the defeatist attitude, but it’s difficult, especially when there’s really nothing you can do to fix it.
Today’s verse is Isaiah 43:2.
When you go through deep waters,
I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
you will not be burned up;
the flames will not consume you.
I thought of this verse today, which is actually the theme verse for a novel my best friend is writing. It’s one of those lovely, comforting verses that is easy to cling to in troubled times. Even in a superficial glance, it’s easy to love this verse, but then when you start thinking about what it actually means, it makes you just love God even more.
This verse is a promise that no matter what comes in life, God never leaves His people to fight alone. And that’s exactly what we’re supposed to be doing: fighting. Look at the verse. When you go–when you walk–it doesn’t say when you’re standing still or when you’re waiting in place. If you’re wading or swimming through waters that would cover your head or if you’re fording a river or if you’re walking in a forest fire, stopping will mean you die. Stopping your forward momentum means you’re in trouble. You’re supposed to keep moving. You’re supposed to keep going. And this is God’s promise that you’ll make it through to the other side.
When you face the figurative fires that burn all around you, God has promised that you won’t be consumed. You won’t be burned up. Now, you might get a little toasty. You can’t walk through fire and not feel some of the heat, but that doesn’t mean the heat will overwhelm you. But you have to keep moving.
When you’re fording the waters of a raging river, trying to reach the other side so you can continue on your journey, God has promised you won’t drown. But you have to keep moving.
And when it’s all you can do to just keep treading water, God has promised that He won’t leave you. But like the other two, you can’t just stop. You have to keep moving.
So if life has left you timid and tired and weary and worn, don’t give up. You’re not alone. God hasn’t left. Don’t turn your back on Him just because you think He’s not listening; He is. And whatever you do, don’t stop. If you stop, you might be overwhelmed. Just keep going. Just keep believing. And just keep trusting that God is going to work it out. It’s who He is.
How high’s the water, Mamma?
[…] morning, mainly because those are the ones that really stuck out to me as I read them. (I should correct yesterday’s post too, since my best friend’s novel is actually based on verses 17-18 of this passage; I saw […]