It comes in many forms, but for me it is often most felt in the early mornings when I first wake up.
My typical mornings include: Coffee. An open window. My journal + Bible. Prayer.
Though not long, eloquent, or flashy, those precious minutes represent a quiet communion with God, bringing peace and perspective to a day that has yet to unfold.
A month ago, I woke up early and began my normal morning routine. My Bible reading that day focused on Genesis 11—the story of the Tower of Babel.
For the first time ever, this felt profoundly sad to me. Imagine losing the ability to communicate as you always had. Your whole world would be different—how you function, how you process. Everything would change. Though Genesis 11 does not say how the people reacted to God’s decision, I can only imagine there were feelings of frustration, isolation, and perhaps, complete panic.
But the beauty of this story is that it was not hate that propelled God to confuse the speech of mankind; it was love. His decision—which may have separated families, friends, and communities—could seem cruel at first, yet it was rooted in a deep desire to shepherd man’s personal holiness and dependency on Him. He knew what the people needed.
A few hours later, my phone rang while I was driving down Northwest Highway on a perfectly normal, sunshiny Friday afternoon. It was my dad—one of my favorite people to talk to—but he sounded different when I answered…the voice of someone with bad news to share. I then learned that my mom had suffered a stroke. My beautiful, vibrant mom—a “perpetual 35 year old,” as my aunt Beth had once said—was facing possible paralysis + loss of speech…all in what felt like a blink of an eye.
I’m not going to divulge much more about her health; I believe that is her story to share. But I will say this: in that terrible, heartbreaking moment, I could relate to the people from Genesis 11 so very much.
The knowledge of my mom’s stroke felt like a loss. It felt like panic.
…But it also felt like peace. A peace I hadn’t truly experienced until that point. Even in the sadness, there was abundant comfort in the knowledge that God was constant, faithful, loving, and near. Though the Williamson family may not like it, we truly, deeply believe that God saw it fit for our wonderful mom to have a stroke and that He is taking care of us in ways that we do not see, nor fully understand.
His nearness sustains us, and His peace overwhelms any sign of panic.
Currently listening to “Abide with Me” by Sara Groves