“Mom, but God promised… He said He wouldn’t bring another flood.”
Those were the words my youngest daughter said to me as we stood in our front entrance, after watching water gush into our home. Her eyes were wide with fear, her voice trembling, and in that moment, everything else faded away. I had to be her calm. I had to be her comfort. And I had to remind myself, too, of God’s promises and signs.
But let me take you back to how it all began—because this story, like most of our real-life faith journeys, wasn’t just about a flood.
God’s Promises and Signs: The Morning It All Began
It was the first day back at school…
It started slow. Rain tapping on the windows. Soft. Cozy.
About 9:15am we were still in our pyjamas. Homeschool vibes in full swing. My youngest was busy with her lessons, and my eldest, peeked outside and noticed the gutter had started to fill up. Being the problem-solver she is, she ran outside and began clearing the leaves from the front of the gutter. We thought it was adorable—like a tiny river forming at the edge of the driveway. It felt like such a sweet, simple moment.
We came back inside and carried on with our morning.
Life went on.
Until it didn’t.
Chaos Unfolds
A short while later, we noticed the water was no longer just in the gutter—it was rising. Onto the pavement. Past the curb. Neighbors started pulling out sandbags. A memory pinged for me: I remembered a conversation I had with our landlord. He’d mentioned that the road flooded for the first time last year. I had tucked it away in my mind and hoped it would never be relevant. But now, watching the water climb, the tension in my body rose too.
Within 30 minutes, water was rushing everywhere. I went out to help my landlord open the drainage system (which, let’s be honest, is probably older than me and just as tired). There are only ten houses that are affected, five on each side. We’re smack in the middle. The canal nearby, the old narrow drainage pipes, the piles of leaves—all of it combined into a perfect storm. Literally.
Then it happened.
While I was filming, trying to document what felt like a scene from The Day After Tomorrow, I was speaking to the camera, saying how we were about to reinforce the door… then some genius flew down the road in a car and sent a wave straight through our driveway—and into the house.
Boom. Flooded.
Olivia was terrified. She clung to me, eyes wide, and whispered:
“But Mom… God promised. He promised He wouldn’t bring another flood.”
And just like that—my heart broke and melted all at once.
She meant it. She was scared.
In that moment, I had to steady myself, wipe my own panic, and explain that no, this wasn’t that kind of flood. Not the one from Noah’s story. This was just our little road being dramatic. I reassured her we were safe. The water wasn’t going to rise past our knees.
And thank God, it didn’t. Divine reassurance.
The water soaked the car, flooded the landlord’s lounge, and came through our front door—but didn’t breach the rest of our home. And just like that, once the rain stopped… the water disappeared.
But the lesson wasn’t done.
The enemy sends floods. God sends signs.
The devil is a liar. God’s promise still stands
A Dove, A Leaf, and a Promise
The next day, we took a walk, like we often do. It’s our family ritual—to move, breathe, and recalibrate. My youngest took her scooter, and we were headed to visit my aunt. She was still a bit shaken but curious again, which felt like a win.
Earlier that morning, I had allowed her a bit of screen time while she ate. Which was unusual, because Wednesdays are normally screen-free days, but she had done so well with her schoolwork the day before that I made an exception.
She was watching a compilation of Christian stories.
As we were walking, Olivia bent down and picked something up from the road.
r“Mom,” she said, “this morning I watched the story about Noah, and the dove, and the leaf… And now look—it’s the angel and the dove!”
I had full-body chills. I hadn’t chosen that episode. I hadn’t curated that moment. But here she was, holding a physical confirmation of the very promise she had been clinging to the day before. Spiritual signs.
I looked at her and said, “Baby, that is exactly what this is. God sent you a sign. He knew you needed to feel safe. And He wanted you to know: He keeps His promises.”
The three of us stood in the road for a moment with goosebumps, holding this little angel figurine, and I knew—this wasn’t just about a flood.
It was about faith. Divine Reassurance. Heavenly Guidance. And sacred timing.
It was the exact comfort we all needed.
When It Rains, It Floods (and Then Some)
But as life goes, the flood didn’t end with the rain.
The next day, I had to valet the car from all the water damage. Thankfully I have an angel in my life that allowed for me to pay this off. The day after I had court. I got home from court only for my maid to tell me that the washing machine was leaking from the bottom. The fridge we borrow from my aunt, stopped freezing properly, and we lost our fish and chicken. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any more ridiculous, my phone fell on Sunday. Half the screen went black, and the touchscreen would only work in random patches for a few seconds at a time.
Let’s just say the universe wasn’t subtle.
It felt like a flood of a different kind. Not physical, but metaphorical. Little chaos moments spilling into every corner of my life.
Through it all, I kept telling myself:
This is not a flood to destroy. This is a flood to cleanse.
Then on Monday I had an epiphany moment…
They say “When it rains, it pours.” But I’ve decided to believe: “When it rains, it nourishes.”
Because the seeds I’ve planted in my life, in my girls, in my business, in my healing—they’re not done growing yet. And I won’t put down my tools.
The epiphany came with clarity: the devil fights the hardest when you’re closest to a breakthrough. When you’re about to cross into a new level, step into the fullness of what’s been promised, he comes with every weapon—confusion, frustration, delay, despair. He wants to destroy, distract, and discourage.
But the devil is a liar. And I see him. And I laugh.
Because I know that no matter how big or severe the storm is, I have God at my side. I have His promise. I have His covering. And that means, without fail, there is always a rainbow waiting at the other end.
God is greater than any storm.
On Tuesday, things started to shift. I made a way to fix my phone. I sorted the washing machine on Wednesday. And yesterday evening, I landed a new web design client.
God helps those who help themselves. And I felt that deeply. I didn’t sit in the chaos. I learnt the lesson. I found the message. And then I moved.
Because we can’t stay stuck in the storm. We weren’t meant to drown in it. We were meant to walk through it—and come out stronger.
A Good Friday Reflection
Today is Good Friday.
A day that, on the surface, feels like the greatest defeat. A man crucified. A Savior silenced. The world plunged into mourning. Darkness.
But we know what came next. It was actually the setup for the biggest victory.
Resurrection. Redemption. A promise fulfilled.
And in many ways, this week past mirrored that story for me.
The chaos. The uncertainty. The pain. And then—the sign. The reminder. The promise.
Good Friday is not the end. It’s the doorway to the resurrection.
So when the storms come—and they will—may we remember that God’s promises are real and He always leaves us signs. Sometimes it’s in a child’s faith and open heart. Sometimes it’s in an angel in the road. Sometimes it’s in the way a dove still brings a leaf.
Good Friday reminds us: the storm always breaks before the resurrection.
A Resurrection Blessing
To anyone who feels like the flood has come for you this week—physically, emotionally, spiritually: Maybe the storm you’re facing feels relentless. Maybe things are being stripped away. Maybe you feel drenched in overwhelm.
I want you to know: it will pass.
This is not the kind of flood that takes you out. This is the kind that clears the way.
And just like the stone rolled away from the tomb, your breakthrough is coming too.
May this Easter season be a reminder that even in death, God brings life. Even in floods, He brings promise. Even in the storm, He is always near.
And no storm—no matter how messy—can cancel what God has ordained.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
If you are celebrating, I would like to wish you and your family a phenomenally blessed Easter and a powerful resurrection of Christ in your life.
Let the rain wash you. Let the signs guide you. And let the promise pull you forward.
Remember that God is greater than any storm.
There’s always a rainbow waiting.
There’s always a resurrection after the cross.
And there’s always, always, a promise that still stands.
#KreativeKim #DearDiary #FaithInTheStorm #GodKeepsHisPromises #WhenItFloods #ChristianMomLife #HomeschoolJourney #SignsFromGod #GoodFridayReflections #FloodedButNotForsaken #SpiritualMotherhood #RealLifeGodMoments
Let me know your thoughts…
Have you ever received a sign when you needed it most? I’d love to hear your story.
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Thank you for your powerful and encouraging words. They are bound to lift anyone out of aslump they may be going through. You. Are a great motivation
Thank you so much for your kind words 💛
It means the world to know that sharing my truth can help someone else feel a little lighter or more hopeful. That’s truly all I ever hope for.
We’re all walking through something—and if my journey can remind someone that God is still in it with them, then every flood, every breakdown, every lesson was worth it.
Wow, this brought tears to my eyes.
I had a similar moment a few months ago when everything felt like it was crumbling—work, parenting, finances, even my health. And just when I felt like I was sinking, my 4-year-old came to me and said, “Jesus is going to make the sun come out again, Mommy.” I just broke. It reminded me that children often hear God more clearly than we do.
Thank you for sharing this. The imagery of the dove, the angel, and your daughter’s faith gave me so much hope. I needed this today more than I can say.
I have goosebumps reading this. Isn’t it amazing how our children can become the messengers we didn’t know we needed? What your little one said… that’s pure, divine reassurance right there.
I completely agree—kids often hear God without the noise we’ve accumulated over the years. Thank you for sharing your story with me. It’s such a comfort to know we’re not alone in these storms—and even more so to see how God reaches us in the simplest, most sacred ways.
Sending you so much love and strength. May the sun keep coming out for both of us—again and again. 🌤️🕊️💛