{{item.title | uppercase}}

{{item.authdes}}

“I hear the tumult of the raging seas
as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.
But each day the Lord pours out his unfailing love upon me,
and through each night I sing his songs,
praying to God who gives me life. “
Psalms 42: 7-8 NLT

As I was growing up, I spent a lot of time at the beach with my family, and as an adult I love taking my kids to the beach as well.

I love playing in the ocean waves. I never quite know what the day is going to be like in the water.

Some days the waves are calm, gentle, rolling. I can just relax and float all day. Other days they are big, powerful, and crashing. On these days I have to work really hard to keep my head above the waves.

Then there are those times when the waves come consistently and predictably for hours on end. I am able to find a rhythm as I ride them. The waves feel manageable, and I start to get comfortable. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, a rogue wave will hit. Suddenly I am struggling to find my breath as I am tossed around in the water, hardly able to tell which way is up.

Sounds a little bit like grief, doesn’t it?

In the early days, weeks, and months of my widow journey I felt as if the waves of grief were relentless. Never stopping, tossing me about, and making it hard to stay above water. It was exhausting.

But there came a time when the waves of grief evened out. I found my rhythm and became so comfortable in dealing with it that there were days when I didn’t even notice them. These days would go on and on until….the rogue wave hit.

Oh, and when it hits, it hits big!

It’s the days when a memory is triggered. It doesn’t really matter if it is a good memory or a bad one, either has the potential to knock me off my feet.

Now that I am several years into this journey, I find most days the ocean is gentle and calm. I am able to relax, float, and even enjoy myself. I have found peace.

But every now and again, a rogue wave still hits.

The difference now is that I have learned how to navigate these waves of grief. They still have the power to knock me off my feet, but I am able to recover much faster. I find the surface quickly and am back to floating comfortably again.

How does that happen? How did I get to the point of being able to get above the wave again?

By keeping my focus on the Father.

You see, as a child, when the waves would get rough, big, and hard to handle I would hold onto my dad. Because he was so much bigger than me, he was able to stand firm in waves that were knocking me about. He was steady and strong and when I went under, he pulled me up and out of the water.

This is what our Heavenly Father does for me now when those waves of grief come. By reading His word, leaning on His strength, and allowing Him to pull me up when I feel as if I am drowning, I am able to navigate the rough times. Without the steadfastness of the Lord, I would be lost in the sea of grief. I would easily be pulled under by those waves. But because of the strength I find in Him, when those waves of grief do hit me, I am able to recover and once again find my peace.

And so can you.

Abba Father, I pray we find comfort and peace that comes with knowing You. Be the strength for each of us. When we feel as if we are drowning in the waves of grief, lift us up through Your word. Comfort us as we wait for the calmness to come again. Thank You, Father, for the peace that only comes from knowing You. Amen