Red Flag Days

Yesterday was a Red Flag Day!

Kelly and I loved the Texas Coast. It was one of our places, where the sky felt bigger, the air felt lighter, and God’s creation wrapped around us like a blessing. We loved everything about being there together. The waves especially fascinated us. They came in every size and shape, from every direction, sometimes gentle and sometimes surprisingly strong.

Every now and then, we underestimated a wave. Kelly would grab onto me when a strong one rolled in, steadying me until I found my footing again. But once, he wasn’t close enough. A wave hit me hard, tumbled me under, and slammed me to the ground. I injured my foot so badly I couldn’t walk without pain for days.

That memory came back to me today, and it felt like the perfect picture of my emotions. Yesterday, a wave hit me with that same unexpected force. It knocked me off my feet, and the rest of the day I felt bruised inside, tender, unsteady, and struggling to move forward.

We all have days like that. Days when the warning flags are already flying, even if we don’t notice them. Days when the waves of grief, stress, memory, or life itself come in stronger than we expected. Days when we feel tossed around by something we didn’t see coming.

Red Flag Days don’t mean we’re weak. They mean the waters are powerful. They mean we’re human. They mean we’re navigating something bigger than ourselves.

They remind us to move gently, hold on to something steady, and let God anchor us when the waves rise higher than we can handle alone. And somehow, someway, I believe Kelly is still helping me face the waves—not in the same way as before, but in the quiet strength his love left behind, in the memories that steady me, and in the way God uses those memories to help me stand again.

Today, the waters were calmer. Today, I could stand again. And I’m grateful not just for the better day, but for the reminder that even when the waves knock us down, the Lord is still near, still faithful, still helping us find our footing