For me, the past few years have felt like standing waist-deep in the ocean as the tide comes in. The first waves were a little scary, but nothing I couldn’t handle. “Two weeks to flatten the curve…”*crash*“The kids’ schools are shutting down…”*crash*“It’s been six months since my church last gathered in person…”*crash*Before long, you’ve learned to anticipate the waves and you brace yourself for impact. Soon enough, however, it’s all too obvious that either the waves are getting higher, or you are getting lower. The waters that once reached your waist now crash into your chest.“You and The Story will need to move out by the end of the year.” *Crash*“Good luck finding a place to go in this real estate market!”*Crash*“We’re sorry to inform you that we can’t offer you any space to rent.”*Crash*The most formidable waves I’ve faced over the past few years – the ones that come up to your neck and threaten to pull you under – have been the waves of discouragement and self-doubt.“What if we can’t come up with the money to survive on our own?”*CRASH*“What if my marriage can’t handle all this stress? What if our kids grow up resenting the Church?”*CRASH*“What if I don’t have what it takes?”*CRASH*And then, on July 11 of this year, the scariest wave I’ve ever absorbed.“Mom is gone.” *CRASH!*That one left me tempest-tossed for months, to be honest with you. I did what men are told we’re supposed to do. I powered through as best I could, telling folks I was fine and choking back tears at the most random times, but inside I felt overcome by the rising tide of grief. But here’s the thing about the tides: they always turn. And last Sunday morning, the Spirit of God pushed back the waters of fear and anxiety and made a way for joy to flow. Across three services at The Story’s new home and one in Timbergrove, almost a thousand people gathered to sing, worship, and thank God for all that He has done
And as I listened to my brothers and sisters lifting their voices in praise to God, something washed over me that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. *Peace*With the holiday season now upon us, and with Christmas around the corner, I’m compelled to remind you that Jesus truly is the prince of peace. The crashing waves of pain and stress may seem merciless and unrelenting. You may even feel like you’re drowning. But your church – and your pastor – are living proof that, eventually, the tide will go out again. No matter how high the waters rise, and how relentlessly the waves of fear crash into you, Jesus Christ is always faithful to deliver all who put their trust in him.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.
Psalm 107:6
Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way. The Lord be with you all.
2 Thessalonians 3:16
