It was the summer the bottom fell out.

Interestingly enough the months leading up to that fateful summer were beguilingly serene and positive. I had the impression that things were working out…that plans were moving forward…that the “blessings” were abounding.

And then the bottom fell out.

First, my oldest son, who had been married for ten short months, called in the middle of the night to say his wife had left. She had decided that she didn‘t want to be married after all and she “didn’t want to leave any wine untasted.” To say my son and my whole family was devastated is to minimalize the trauma this took us through.

Then, a mere month later, my husband came home from his start-up business, locked out of the building, with the news that there was no more money for salaries. To say this was a financial tsunami for our family barely scratches the surface.

I watched my son walk through trying to put his shattered heart and life back together, and as a mom there is nothing worse than watching your child hurt and not be able to do anything to fix it.

I watched my husband push through business and personal disappointment while trying to turn a sinking ship around, and as a wife there is nothing worse than watching your man struggle and knowing your words meant for encouragement may just feel patronizing and irritating.

I watched our financial security become shaky as every car repair and every purchase seemed like it might sink us, and as a home manager there is nothing worse than trying to balance out which needs get to be met and which have to go unfulfilled.

What do you do when the bottom falls out?

Well, the first thing that happens is you quickly discover exactly what kind of foundation your life is built upon. This picture is of a house left over from a flood in Colorado last fall. As I drove past this house I immediately thought back to that eventful, bottom-falling-out summer and remembered feeling just like this house. Exposed. Washed out. Condemned.

As my dreams crumbled, my heart broke, and my security vanished all the things that really didn’t matter slid out the bottom for the world to see.

But then I discovered something. Something amazing. There was a part of me still standing.

It took a while to see. I had to work through tears, and mornings when I couldn’t get out of bed, and anger, and blame, and a whole lot of fear. But after all the dust settled I realized something.

Every part of my life built upon the rock of Jesus Christ still stood. Firm. Resolute. Impervious to the storm.

Before I would have told you that Jesus is enough- that He was all I needed.

But now… Now. I. Know. I know in the deepest part of my heart and my soul that the world can take it all- my hopes, my security, my dreams.

I know that the storms can expose everything- my weaknesses, my pain, my failings.

I know that I or my loved ones can experience searing loss and deep humiliation.

And through all that, I KNOW that Jesus is enough. He is sufficient. He is all I need.

So I put my feet on Him- my Rock, my Foundation, my Everything, my Only Thing. And that is exactly where I will stay.

I love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. ~Ps. 18:1,2