When you wonder: How God Feels About Storms & Flooding Grief?

When you see elderly people in wheelchairs, sitting in water up to their waists, their shoulders, in a flooded nursing home —   when 11 trillion gallons of rain dump on the 4th largest city in the US with more than 15 trillion more gallons forecasted — how in the world do things stand in a world flooding with catastrophes like this?

Twitter/@HCSOTexas / An HCSO deputy rescuing two children from the Blackhorse subdivision in Cypress, Texas, northwest of Houston.

How do you just put a jug of milk out on the table on Monday morning and stand there watching your kids eat breakfast, light in their hair, when there’s a dad axing a hole through his roof to pull his kids up out of the rising water?

How does the sky just suddenly spin mad over the weekend and pelt a whole state flat?

Who can stand when your heart’s flooded with grief?

God’s heart overflows in the midst of grief.

“… his heart was filled with pain,” is what He says. {Gen 6:6}

God has a heart. And it hurts. In the face of grief, in the midst of our storms, God’s heart fills not with just with a a few drops of ache, not just with a slow drip of sadness — His whole massive heart fills, swells, burns with this raw, relentless pain.

In the midst of the storm, all of God floods with pain.

What grieving mother in Texas could wake up today and look around at the flooding, and hear her baby crying and forget her little one — what mother could just up and forget her always-baby?

And God whispers hoarse: That mother whose heart is bound to her child’s — doesn’t compare to how your Father’s heart is bound to you. {Isa 49:15}

The Lord of the Universe, He’s lashed Himself to us. And He didn’t need to. But He tied the knot Himself. God who hung the stars, He takes a thread of His heart and ties His to ours. God tied His heart to yours so when you feel pain — He fills with shattering pain.

So when we howl: “If there’s a God who really cares, He’d look at this world and His heart would break.”

And God looks to the Cross and says – My heart did.

God’s heart breaks.

On that Cross — they speared His side and pierced straight into His heart filled with pain and it was the water and blood of His right broken heart that gushed right out.

It’s the quantum physics of God: one broken heart always breaks God’s in two.  We never cry alone.

And our crying God, He catches every tear in His bottle — God catches every falling tear because He’s keeping us from falling apart.

I can’t turn away from the screen, can’t turn from families in Texas brushing away the tears, the storm still pounding them with rain.

And there are storms that are only dark canvases for God’s lightning glory. 

Storms can be a stage for epic light.

Storms can be a stage for God-light to shine through Heroes and Givers and Gifters and Rescuers and Responders and Pray-ers.

In the midst of storms, all our storms, this is always true:

Sometimes God will calm the storm for you —  but sometimes God will calm you for the storm.

Sometimes God calms the storms — and sometimes the storm stills swirl and He calms our fears.

All storms only still to the sound of One Voice.

Thirteen million are currently under flood watch and there are pray-ers around the world who are keeping prayer watches and God is with us in all the storms.

And all I can think is — God tied His heart to ours — and the tears of God are the essence of Time.

Time only continues on in this impossibly suffering worldbecause God Himself is willing to keep suffering the impossible with us.

That’s what we all share — that He shares the grief with us and reasoning is cold and His embrace is warm.

In the centre of all our storms:

There’s a Light house that promises to carry us safe to shore.

There’s a God who allows Himself to be a Light house to see us through storms.

And then God allows storms so we love the Light House long after the storms pass.

The Farmer tells me that they are calling for more than 4 more days of rain over Houston.

And I can only nod, not trusting my voice not to break, trusting only His broken heart.

Trusting how it comes in storms —

the falling tears of God.




Related: How to Live Through the Really Hard Storms