“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18
In recent days, many in Texas have faced overwhelming sorrow as floods swept through homes, communities, and lives. What was once familiar and secure now lies in ruins. The images of water-soaked streets, families huddled in shelters, and neighborhoods underwater break our hearts. In times like these, we are reminded how fragile life can be — and how deeply we long for comfort.
Grief comes in waves, much like the floodwaters themselves. There is the grief of loss: loss of possessions, of stability, of peace. But there is also the grief of witnessing others suffer, of feeling helpless, of questioning why. It’s in such sorrowful moments that God’s Word becomes a lifeline.
Psalm 34:18 assures us that God is not distant from our pain. He is not a far-off deity watching from above, but a compassionate Father who draws near to the brokenhearted. When the waters rise, so does His presence. He steps into our grief, offering not just sympathy but strength.
Isaiah 43:2 echoes this hope:
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.”
Notice the promise is not that we will avoid the flood, but that we will not face it alone. God walks with us through the floodwaters — through the loss, the fear, the rebuilding.
Jesus Himself was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). He understands sorrow in its deepest form. On the cross, He bore our pain so that we might know peace — even in the midst of tragedy.
In these trying times, we are called not only to receive God’s comfort but to share it. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 1:4 that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” If you have known the comfort of God, consider being that comfort to someone today — with a prayer, a helping hand, or a word of encouragement.
To those who are hurting from the floods in Texas: you are not forgotten, and you are not forsaken. Your sorrow is real, but so is the Savior who walks with you. His comfort is not just a feeling; it is a promise. A presence. A peace that passes understanding.
