An Interruption
I needed to work. But I couldn’t. Not now.
I left my home office, grabbed my shoes, and sat on the bottom step of the stairway facing the front door—the spot I always put them on.
Never again will certain families in Texas return to their routines. They’ve lost everything. More than just homes, cars, and things—some have lost the people they love.
Emotion ran high.
I walked out the front door, closed it tightly behind me, and began to walk.
The Texas Floods
The sun shone brightly as I walked down my driveway toward the nearby park—such a contrast to the dark morning of July 4, 2025, which weighed on my mind. I pictured Aaron Parsley’s description: the night sky the same color as the raging water the Parsley family was plunged into.
They were awakened by the storm.
Not long after, their river house floated down the Guadalupe—with them still inside.
Parsley shared many details I caution you to read. The article is here. The descriptions are haunting.
For those who can’t bear to, just know this: the family was miraculously saved—except the baby.
The scene of the mother crying out for her child leaves me paralyzed. Teary.
We All Have Floods
As I walked, I thought about how we all experience floods—some just as devastating and catastrophic as the recent Texas floods, though different in form. Loved ones lost. Medical diagnoses. Tragedy. Unmet expectations. Divorce. Addiction. Heartbreak. Betrayal. Job losses. Financial hardship. Mental and emotional struggle. Prodigal children.
Prodigal children is where my mind stopped.
This is my story. My heartbreak. My flood.
I’m writing about my oldest son’s prodigal years in a memoir right now. I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to share it. It’s so personal. But the same is true for every single one of our floods. Every flood is deeply personal. And every flood matters.
Most importantly, every flood has the power to change us.
That’s why I’m writing my memoir.
It’s not the story of a prodigal.
It’s the story of a changed mother.
The Mother who Couldn’t Save Her Baby
Just like the mother who tried to save her baby in the Texas flood, I tried to save mine.
Our raging river was teenage drugs, alcohol, school expulsion, and many sleepless nights.
But it wasn’t in those situations where I met my deepest sorrow.
My tragedy was that I couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t fix him. I couldn’t change him. I couldn’t save him.
I was that Texas mother who couldn’t save her baby.
My heart broke for her. As I walked, I stopped my thoughts to pray for her.
My eyes filled with tears.
Hope
What does this world have to hope in, if not saving from the floods?
There’s a beautiful experience in Scripture called deliverance—a sort of rescue, if you will.
God does the delivering. He delivers some from their floods. And He delivers others through their flood.
The floods may remain far longer than we ever feared. But there is a rescue we can hope in.
And it always begins in the heart.
The greatest rescue of all was Jesus Christ dying on the cross for the sin of mankind—a deliverance from the flood of eternal death and separation from God, for all who would trust Him.
This world is not the end. But one must believe to be rescued.
He sent from above, He took me;
He drew me out of many waters.He delivered me from my strong enemy,
From those who hated me,
For they were too strong for me.They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
But the Lord was my support.He also brought me out into a broad place;
He delivered me because He delighted in me. Psalm 18:16-19 NKJV
My heart and prayers go out to the Parsley family for their loss—and to every family in Texas who is grieving.
Their bigger flood begins now.
It’s waking up each day in the aftermath of tragedy.
It’s walking through the rubble.
It’s living with the brokenness of loss.
I know. I’ve been there.
We all have.
I pray every flood leaves us with more than just a life-changing imprint—but something to hope in.
Someone, I mean.
A tried, true, and eternal hope—Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and what He accomplished on the cross.
If you have that hope, you know.
You couldn’t face your floods without Him.
And if you don’t have that hope—you can.
What does this world have to offer if it doesn’t have hope?
Enough to Carry On
I returned home and paused at the front door.
The walk hadn’t relieved me of my emotion.
It hadn’t solved my current floods either.
But it reminded me of my hope.
And that was enough to carry on.
Our soul waits for the Lord;
He is our help and our shield.For our heart shall rejoice in Him,
Because we have trusted in His holy name.Let Your mercy, O Lord, be upon us,
Just as we hope in You.Psalm 33:20-22
