And the Floods Came

The phone rings shrill, penetrating the slumber filled early hours and I know, through the murky mental rousing, that once answered, my days and moments forward will be changed. I know there will be loss that answering brings.

“I’m so sorry” is the husky whisper of my life partner into the receiver as he passes the phone. In that split second, I realize this is not the phone call I had been expecting. At this stage of life, I am always expecting another call. This is not it. Nor is it the misdialed number of stranger. And there’s no time to steel myself for loss unimagined.

When stunned and broken hearted sister weeps grief over 50 miles, my mind races and
body rouses. What words can I possibly offer to fill the jagged void ripped open in her heart? What actions? I feel small, and inadequate– flung outside her crashing world against my own wall of unyielding brick.

After phone is cradled, I am numb. What do I do at 1:30 in the morning with heart
breaking and racing?

I don’t have to do anything.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring
good tidings to the afflicted, he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted…to comfort all who mourn…to grant the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. Isaiah 61:1-3

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In
all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5,6

He does it all. The fortress He has built over years with me in my heart stands firm, and it’s warm and safe and full of sustenance. When my addled and distracted brain can’t think of scripture, or settle my racing mind to come to Him in prayer, He’s already there, and has been all along. He scoops me up and carries me—through the must dos that don’t go away because of sudden loss, through the ministrations to family, through the constant pulse of sadness.

I am covered by this mantle of praise and my spirit does not faint, because it is
not mine. It is His.

I have built my house on this Rock and I stand on Solid Ground. And from my this Ground, I can reach down and grasp the ones whose feet are less well planted.

Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house upon the rock and the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. Matthew 7:24ff

About An Earthen Vessel--Terri Apgar

Wife of one, mother of three, so grateful for God's grace--that's me. I'm just tucked into my bay window, opening my heart to God and trying to be brave about letting Him use all that He has crafted inside me to His glory.
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3 Responses to And the Floods Came

  1. Beth Guion says:


    This is beautiful. You are such an example of leaning on God’s strength in those times when you need it the most. God has blessed you in so many ways, and you have blessed me with your friendship and love. Thank you for this beautifully written piece.


  2. Terri,

    I am so grateful for this post tonight. Thank you sister.


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