Remembering my foundation.

This last week has been hard. It has been a classic example of the cycle of grief: just as you feel like you're regaining your footing from the last wave that hit you, another one comes at you from behind and dumps you, head first, into the sand. When will I ever be able to secure my footing long enough to begin climbing out of this ocean of despair?

The ocean is fierce, as in a storm. The waves are strong and many. As this storm rages my heart is flooded with insecurities and I feel as though I will be swallowed whole by deepest distress.

But then I remember the old story passed down through the generations. The story of two men; one man built his house on the sand, the other built his house on the rock.  I remember the foundation on which my hope rests.

I remember, and so I sit in peace, a midst the turmoil, and wait for the storm to pass. The flood waters are receding and each wave is smaller than the one before.

I am thankful for the reminder He gave me this week.

"When through the deep waters I call you to go,

the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;

for I will be with you, your troubles to bless,

and sanctify to you your deepest distress."

"The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,

I will not, I will not desert to its foes;

that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I'll never, no never, no never forsake."

Anonymous, "How Firm a Foundation", Hymn #94, Trinity Hymnal (Philadelphia: Great Commission Publications, 1990).