“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.” – Isaiah 43:2
It was literal
This year, the flood wasn’t metaphorical—it was literal. A hidden leak in our house turned into water pouring through walls and ceilings, leaving chaos and ruin in its wake. What once felt like a refuge became a construction zone, where the comforts of home were boxed away, and the space we cherished was stripped to its bare bones.
To make matters worse, Christmas decorations—symbols of hope, joy, and light—had to come down early. No decorated tree, no nativity on the mantle, no twinkling reminders of Emmanuel, “God with us.” It felt like displacement, not just of our belongings but of our spirits.
Each day, as I walk through the accessible narrow alleys of our house, I preach the gospel to myself. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”
God doesn’t promise we won’t face floods—literal or figurative. He doesn’t say the waters won’t rise or the damage won’t come. But He does promise His presence. And that changes everything.
The mitigation process felt overwhelming – with the loud tornado fans – and it is done. The house rebuild process has only just begun. The walls were dried, damaged boards removed, and mold was checked to ensure nothing harmful lingered beneath the surface. Slowly, the structure of our home is being restored.
The lesson
In the same way, God works in our lives. When the floodwaters of life rush in, threatening to overwhelm, He enters the mess with us, clearing away the damaged parts of our hearts and rebuilding us stronger than before. He doesn’t leave signs of destruction behind. Instead, He restores us fully, making us whole in Him.
This experience is thought-provoking: the absence of visible Christmas decorations does not mean the absence of Christ. Emmanuel didn’t need twinkle lights to shine. His presence has been unmistakable.
Today, if you feel displaced—by loss, trials, or life’s unexpected floods—know that you are not alone. There is no promise that your troubles will end the way you want them to – but there is the sweet promise of God’s presence in the midst. He is making all things new. Restoration is on its way. I saw this quote recently, and it made me smile:
“Another world is not only possible; she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” —Arundhati Roy.
While the author may not have referred to the new heavens and earth, it can be applied that way. I ask God often for glimpses of His restoration process! May I hear the breathing – the work of the Spirit – pneuma – as He quietens my heart.
One more quote – a theological paraphrase of Isaiah 65:17-19 by Scotty Smith …
“Stop what you are doing, take an unrushed look, and get it deep into your heart! I am creating new heavens and a new earth—not as a replacement but as a radical healing, expanding, and flourishing of my original creation. I want you to rejoice with all your being—now in hope and on that day in fullness. Old Jerusalem will shed her “skin,” and the New Jerusalem will emerge as an eternal domain of consummate happiness and beauty. Everyone who lives there will be a joy and give joy to each other. I myself will be chief Rejoicer and will delight in my whole family with a joy you cannot imagine. Never again will the sound of weeping and crying will be heard.”
The waters will not sweep over us. God is with us – this is the message of Christmas, Emmanuel! He is restoring what was lost and rebuilding what was broken.
My house will return to normal. It may be a few more weeks. There is light at the end of this tunnel as I listen to the drilling, sanding, and scraping from the other room. God is near …
Also posted on Substack …
