The feelings came in like a flood: sudden, overwhelming, and impossible to contain. So did the tears. With every new piece of information, the weight grew heavier. The heartbreak ran deeper. We’ve all been there; those moments when life shifts without warning, and you’re left standing in the wreckage of trauma, loss, or grief.
A recent flood of heartbreak hit on July 4. I live in the beautiful Hill Country of Texas, a place that’s usually peaceful and restorative. But the devastation that swept through our community was a stark reminder that life can change in an instant. It stirred something deeper in me, echoes of another time when the world felt uncertain.
When I moved here from Chicago in 2021, it was the middle of the pandemic, another heartbreaking season none of us will ever forget. The fear. The frustration. The fatigue. That chapter also revealed something I hadn’t yet named: a struggle with anxiety. I remember clinging to Scriptures and worship songs about peace, desperately trying to still my mind and quiet the noise around me.
That same flooded soul feeling: racing thoughts, inner chaos, the ache of uncertainty, hit me again this past Independence Day weekend. There’s something about living through a literal flood that makes spiritual storms feel even more tangible. One moment, the world is familiar. The next, it’s unrecognizable. Grief moves in where safety used to live. Hope that was once steady starts to tremble. And the soul begins to ache for something familiar, something solid to hold onto again.
We all know the feeling; when you can’t breathe, can’t think straight, and everything feels like too much. You want to act, but you don’t know what to do. You want to grieve, but words won’t come. You want peace, but anxiety is louder. In these moments, I’m learning that accessing God’s peace isn’t optional; it’s critical. Philippians 4:7 says,
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
That verse has become a lifeline for me. It reminds me that peace is not the result of everything feeling great or even making sense. In fact, I’ve learned from this verse that peace is primarily found when we release our right to understand, and that can be hard. We want to know why the storm came and when it will be over. We want to know details: the how, the what, the answers. But unfortunately, asking “why” on repeat often leads to deeper anxiety, not deeper peace.
After the floods, just like during the pandemic, I made a decision: I will not live stuck in the question of “why.” I will live in faith. Like Peter stepping out of the boat, I want to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus, not the wind and waves around me. I may falter. My vision may blur. But I will keep showing up. I will keep His Word hidden in my heart so that when the floodwaters rise- spiritually, emotionally, or physically, I can respond with courage and clarity.
Here are seven Scriptures that have been an anchor for me through seasons of both literal and spiritual flooding. If your soul feels submerged, I pray these verses lift you, steady you, and carry you toward healing, just as they’ve supported me in life’s hardest storms.
Photo Credit: Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas/Pexels
1. Isaiah 40:31 – “But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength...”
In the early days after the July 4 flood, many of us in the community were physically and emotionally exhausted. Between cleanup efforts, supporting neighbors, and processing our own grief, it felt like there wasn’t enough strength to go around.
This verse reminds us: waiting on the Lord is not weak, it’s renewing; and trusting in God is the only way to regain strength.
The Hebrew word for “wait” can also mean to bind together or to hope expectantly. So when we “wait on the Lord,” we aren’t being passive, we’re intertwining our lives with His. We are turning toward Him as our source. This is both spiritual and strategic.
God doesn’t promise to refill our leftover strength. He gives us new strength. Flood seasons reveal how limited we are, but also how limitless He is.
Reflection:
What would it look like for you to stop fretting or panicking and start soaring in trust?
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2. Psalm 91:1-2 – “He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty…”
Psalm 91 has been quoted often in times of crisis, but it’s more than a protective shield. It’s a love letter to those who choose intimacy with God.
To “dwell” means to remain, to take up residence. The promise here isn’t that we’ll be exempt from the storm, but that we’ll be sheltered within it.
I often picture myself crawling up under His wings like a child curls into a parent’s arms. The verse continues: “Because he loves me, I will rescue him… I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.”
When we worship, even in the weeping, we build a place for God to meet us. Dwelling becomes our defense. We don’t have to hide from the world. We just need to hide in Him.
Reflection:
Are you running to God or just running? What would it mean to make worship your first response?
3. Isaiah 59:19 – “When the enemy comes in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him.”
The enemy doesn’t show up quietly; he floods in. Fear. Accusation. Discouragement. Doubt.
But here’s the good news: God responds by raising a standard.
In ancient times, a standard was a banner or flag lifted high in battle. It told the army where to rally and reminded them of who they belonged to. When life floods in, God lifts up Christ as our standard, the victory already won.
Our job is not to outrun the enemy. Our job is to align with Christ, live in Him, and trust the One who fights for us.
Reflection:
What lie is flooding your mind right now? What is one thing you can do to raise the standard in your own life? Declare truth and integrity as your banner today.
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4. Psalm 126:5 – “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.”
Flood seasons feel like loss upon loss. Prayers feel distant. Progress feels erased. Emotions feel raw.
But this verse is God’s gentle whisper: Your tears are not wasted. They’re seeds.
Every act of faith, every prayer whispered through tears, every moment you choose to trust is sowing into your future joy.
Trusting that our faithfulness matters, even when everything falls apart, is what turns devastation into a story of redemption.
Reflection:
What seed are you sowing right now, even through your tears? Don’t stop. Joy is coming.
5. James 1:2-4 – “Count it all joy… when you fall into various trials…”
Let’s be honest: the word “joy” doesn’t come to mind when disaster strikes. But James challenges us to redefine joy; not as superficial cheerfulness, but as holy endurance.
Trials don’t come to destroy us; they come to develop us, and storms reveal our foundation. They show us what’s anchored and what isn’t. But here’s the promise: when we persevere, we become “perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” Not because life is perfect, but because our trust in God is transformational and being made whole.
Reflection:
Where are you tempted to numb, fix, or escape? Ask God for strength to endure and grow stronger.
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6. 2 Corinthians 4:7–18 – “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed…”
If you’ve ever felt pressure closing in from all sides, Paul’s words here are a balm.
He doesn’t sugarcoat pain. He admits the pressing is real. But he reframes it: we carry treasure in fragile jars of clay. Our weakness makes room for God’s glory.
Paul says we may be “perplexed, but not in despair; struck down but not destroyed.” Because what feels like breaking is actually becoming.
The flood may expose our cracks, but it also allows light to shine through them.
Reflection:
Could this pressure be preparing you, not punishing you? What might God be revealing in the broken places?
7. Hebrews 12:2 – “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…”
When grief overwhelms, emotions pile up, and strength runs out, it matters where we focus.
Hebrews reminds us to fix our eyes on Jesus, the One who began your story and promises to finish it. Even when God feels distant and your soul feels flooded, we must keep our vision anchored in His. Staying rooted in faith doesn’t mean ignoring your emotions; it means walking through them with Jesus beside you.
Jesus isn’t just watching from a distance. He walks with us in the flood. He knows the weight we carry. And he’s writing a story we can’t yet see.
Reflection:
What are your eyes focused on, the devastation or the Deliverer? Let Him lift your gaze today.
Photo Credit: © Getty Images/Marjan_Apostolovic
The Flood Is Not the End
Friend, if your soul feels flooded by heartbreak, transition, trauma, or the weight of waiting- hear this: You are not being drowned. You are being developed. You are not forgotten. You are being formed. The flood does not get the final word; Jesus does. Keep worshiping. Keep sowing. Keep waiting. Keep praying. You are not alone in the waters. You are sheltered in His shadow.
A Prayer for the Flooded Soul
Lord,
I pray for every soul distraught over a flooded soul. For those feeling stretched thin and overwhelmed. Alone and forgotten. I pray for Your covering. Wrap them in Your peace that goes beyond understanding. Guard their hearts with your grace. When the enemy comes in like a flood, raise a standard of truth and victory. When the questions come, help us release the need to understand and instead receive Your peace.
Remind us that even in the storm, You are near. You are steady. You are faithful. Help us fix our eyes on Jesus, the One who endured the cross and now walks with us through the flood.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Maria Dorota
Originally published Wednesday, 30 July 2025.