The Green Pastures are Flooded

Psalm 23 has long been my go-to scripture—especially when someone’s walking through illness or weariness: “He makes me lie down in green pastures… He restores my soul.”

That verse is soft as a lullaby, strong as an anchor. I often say, “God is inviting you to rest—to be restored—because He knows what’s up ahead.” It sounds lovely… until the green pastures are flooded.
Until the still waters have turned into raging ones.
Until the home is gone, the future unclear, the heart cracked wide open.

That’s when I stop and ask, “Lord, what do I say now?”

I’ve told folks, “Just enjoy the roller coaster of faith—lift your hands and trust the ride.” But when life gets derailed by diagnosis, disaster, or disappointment, it doesn’t feel like a ride anymore. It feels like wreckage.

In those moments, my words fall flat. But God’s Word? Oh, it still stands.

He doesn’t ask us to pretend the storm isn’t real—He simply promises He’ll be with us in it. His Word is still our shelter, even when the winds are howling and the waters rise.

And I know a little about storms myself. In the hardest places, praise became my life raft. I clung to songs like “Praise You in This Storm,” where every lyric became a lifeline:
“You never left my side. And though my heart is torn, I will praise You in this storm.”

That’s the truth. He never leaves. He sees every tear, hears every whisper-prayer, and holds every trembling hand.

Even when the green pastures don’t look like pastures at all.
Even when the storm clouds block the sun.
Even when we don’t understand the “why” behind the rain.

Friend, take heart. You may not know what the future holds, but you are deeply known by the One who holds it.
And He’s working—even in this—for your good. (Romans 8:28)

So let’s lift our hands—yes, even in the storm—and trust the One who calms the sea and still whispers, “I’m with you.”