When the Waters Rise

Grief, Texas, and the God Who Weeps

The rains came fast this time. Again. Streets turned into rivers. Homes into islands. Families became refugees in their own neighborhoods. And across Texas, heartbreak has bloomed in the soggy soil: lost homes, missing people, recovery efforts, relationships forever changed, the breaking of families, and buried memories beneath the mud.

People never forgotten.

(Fly fishing the Guadalupe River on a spring morning in Texas by Daniel Thornberg)

For those grieving in this flood’s aftermath, there are no easy words. Grief, after all, is never tidy. It swells like water, often without warning. It seeps into the corners of our souls and soaks what we felt was tightly woven and waterproof. It doesn’t respect schedules or stronger forces—it seeks to be top dog. It frequently disregards walls, boundaries, and dams.

And sometimes, it leaves us wondering if God has turned His face away.

At least it has for me.

The world appears to be in deep grief. I can barely scroll through TikTok without every other post being a tribute, a created video of the Camp Mystic girls, or updates/tributes from devastated family and friends (some reacting to grief with interesting choices).

There are many AI images and videos of groups of girls in camp t-shirts running into Jesus’s arms.

Some of the posted AI doesn’t appear super fakey. AI is continually improving, and in this case, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Why? Because I’ve been honored to get a glimpse of Glory along with some of you, and although these pictures don’t do Jesus or Glory justice, and never can—they do paint beautiful pictures.

They paint pictures of longing, joy, welcome, sometimes sadness, or a bit of trepidation—on both the kids’ faces and my Lord’s face. The best, of course, when both He and the kids have huge smiles. Because that is what occurred. These pictures provide a visual of Him carrying them Home or walking with them, their hand tightly grasped in His. And of course I have to get down with that—because He held me too.

Jesus looks and acts like a dad figure in those pictures. My friends, these pictures say it even better than any words I could come up with: He adores these children. He knows each name, each hair on their heads. He knows their emotions, circumstances, what they leave behind, the fullness He now gives them.

He also knows their favorite colors, their hobbies, the names of their friends, the personalities of their pets, the games they love, the food they always detested, and their current sheer joy.

I know He’s spending extra time just with them this week—as well as with their families left behind here with us. His love for them overflows in these depictions, made by Christians refusing to vacate hope—who are choosing to focus on healing and eternity.

“Welcome Home,” His face says. “I missed you. I waited for you. I longed for you. I’ve got you—I always have.”

And He is here for all of us, too. Especially this week. He walks with us in the pain. His face reflects our emotions, as He gazes at us with compassion, mercy, and grace while squeezing a hand or wrapping an arm around a shoulder.

Some are and will continue to question the “whys”. A very normal human reaction. But know this. Jesus was already with His beloved people at the moment of water impact, and held out his hand instantly. Those who knew Him had no gap between finally closing their eyes, feeling His warm hand, and seeing His eyes light up with recognition and love as Heaven shone behind Him with a brightness they’d never before beheld.

Welcome Home

In this one on TikTok, Jesus holds a toddler in his arms and takes the hand of the older girl. In complete adoration and trust, they walk with Him toward the light.

In another, He holds one girl while two others run to Him. They stand in shallow water, which resembles a splash pad in front of a golden gate, grinning almost to their ears. View it here on Facebook.

In former days (shall we say?), we rarely got pictures of Jesus. If I saw one, I felt like I should treat it like a classic, famous canvas hanging in a museum. It became a special moment. That is, when I wasn’t cringing, wondering if He was looking into my very soul because He’d figured out that I didn’t want to go to church that morning.

Paintings and drawings depicting what Jesus looks like have increased significantly over the years, particularly now that near-death and afterlife experiences are more prevalent. Of course, it started with the now-famous Akiane Kramarik, who met Jesus at a young age and retained not only her memory of His likeness but also developed incredible artistic talent. Her job apparently was to come back to Earth and paint Him, making His face more real for the rest of us.

I now read stories of people (even children) who see Him, return here, and then search frantically for His likeness. I get that feeling. And when they finally land on Akiane’s paintings, they draw a big breath of relief, feeling a sense of validated peace.

They’ve seen the same Jesus. And a unique replica on Earth is comforting.

Music: Divine, Unique Yet Relatable Expression

Songs on social media in tribute posts abound. “I Can Only Imagine” seems the most popular, and yesterday, I saw one presented differently but beautifully, when a dad and two daughters at the piano sang it in three-part harmony. Dad added some special words of dedication and, at the end, apologized for becoming emotional.

No need, “Dad”. We are all feeling it.

And here is one with a gentleman hand-signing the song. Beautiful.

Rising Floodwaters

Jesus grieves too. And He is grieving with all of us now.

He knows floodwaters. He has also stood at the edge of deep grief and wept (John 11:35). He cried at a friend’s tomb, even knowing resurrection was moments away. He saw pain and didn’t pull back from it. In fact, He walked right into it. Nervy, resolved, or brave? Nada. He chose to have confidence in His Father’s plan. Moving things forward—knowing there was a greater plan.

Doing the Hard Job, in the interest of making it a better world for all. Not for the first or last time.

When the waves rose on the Sea of Galilee, He didn’t scold the storm first—He quieted His friends’ fear. Jesus is not aloof to chaos. He’s in it, heart first. His people are always his top priority. Love makes that happen.

If you’re grieving right now—over the floods in Texas, the loss of someone you love, or a hundred of what feels like unseen heartbreaks—know that Jesus doesn’t rush you past the sorrow. He sits in it with you. He mourns with those who mourn (John 11:5, Romans 12:15). He carries your grief as His own (Isaiah 53:4). And when you are finally ready to stand and try a wobbly step, He is right next to help you straighten, adjust, and relearn to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

He is the God who stays.

The flood is not the end of the story.

In fact, does it not end with a rainbow?

West side of O’Hua, September 2024

How Does He Feel About It?

I know it is hard to remember when you are in the thick darkness of grief, but God never wanted this suffering for mankind. He doesn’t sit and chuckle on His throne as He sees our pain. He doesn’t shrug His shoulders and say, Or, ‘Wow, check out that natural disaster.” Or, “Well, they did bring it on themselves, you know.”

Even when we know that we did! Even when we stand before Him and cringe as we question our worthiness in the light of the Almighty. In so many accounts, it’s at that point that He says, “I didn’t see you at all that way. You were made perfect through me. I meant that.”

Suffering was never part of His plan. Not when He created us for family. Not when He developed us for companionship, community, and care, to share our gifts as an act of worship to Him.

We don’t ache alone.

If your heart is underwater today, take comfort in this: Jesus feels it too. He knows the extreme sting of loss. And He promises—one day—no more floods, no more tears, no more dark, no more pain, no more questions, no more hesitation.

Grief completely obliterated.

Understand that He knows your need to grieve. He made us with tear-faucets, empathy, warm hearts, and mercy. Hold space for the sorrow, but grieve with hope. Trust the God who enters every storm alongside His people.

He’s got you, too.

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Broadcast with Randy - Please join Randy Kay and me tomorrow (Friday, the 11th) at 3:00 PM Pacific, live on YouTube. I share my near-death story and some insights that my Lord has given me about His church/bride. You can click on it now if you want, log into YouTube, choose “subscribe” and “notify me” if you wish to be reminded. See you there!

Recommended Watch:

This account of a flood victim in 2024 who visited Jesus was just posted yesterday. This is the second recent account I’ve seen where Jesus points out our screen use and satan’s attempt to use it in distracting us. Jesus showed her what is to come, and He asked her to tell us that He is not angry - however, that it is time to get our attention. Worth your time to watch it.

Recommended Listening:

My Heaven Songs Playlist has been updated with more songs. When rest wouldn’t come last night, it centered me back to where my attention belongs. I hope it helps you, too.

Love you guys. Truly. <3