Summers growing up always included time at the lake. One of my favorite places was actually a stilling basin. If you are unfamiliar, a stilling basin is engineered to reduce the high kinetic energy that builds at the bottom of a dam. It’s a release of sorts and protects the foundation of the dam from erosion and scouring. Our lake is on the Canadian River about eight miles from our small West Texas hometown, 37 miles from Amarillo. The stilling basin has a great sandy area at the far end. It boasted lifeguards, and a food truck (before they were such a great culinary indulgence).

We would grab our beach towels and sunscreen and meet up with our aunts and cousins for a whole afternoon of catching minnows in paper cups, swimming like mermaids and building sandcastles. These were the purest moments. Occasionally, we would get to witness the release of water into the stilling basin and watch it rush over the edges of the jump with incredible force and into the reservoir.

I had three aunts in my early years, picture the “ya ya” sisterhood minus the alcohol. They loved to have fun, play games and most of all, they loved to laugh. They taught us to have adventures. When my grandmother was still living, the sisters would kidnap each other, have slumber parties and take weekend trips together.

A family is important, they also taught us that. They did not do this through words alone, but through their actions, by connecting, having dinners together, celebrating life, and taking care of each other during difficult moments. Last year one of the sisters passed away, and I’m not sure I have adequate words to describe the loss. It felt like a chink in armor I didn’t even know existed. My own mom has Alzheimer’s now, so memories feel more important than ever. It is so special when she calls me by name. A strange truth, I know. In my head, I celebrate with a giant YES! she still knows me. It is good to be known by her.

The passing of my aunt made me contemplate my own mom’s mortality. The heaviness was tangible. Then, one night, singing at a local worship conference, my mom’s face came to mind, just a flash of her really, but in the flash, I was singing through my mom’s face instead of my own. I had this instant deep realization that I will never lose my mom because I am her. I hold her DNA, her love, and her nurturing. Every meal she taught me to cook, every prayer she prayed, every time she made me feel special, called to check on me, wrote me a card, believed in me, those moments make up who I am. Every time she sang silly songs with me in the car, took me hiking in the woods, read to me. All of it is in me.

This is what love does. It makes us. It is foundational because it is the type of support that is transformational. I think the power of Romans 8:38-39 is the reminder that we can never be separated from His love either. It says, ^“…I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.”

God’s love is an engineering marvel like my favorite stilling basin. When we rest in Him, choose to trust the process, it acts as a release. He sees you rushing forward and crashing against the rocks. His words are “Be still.” His love releases us into peace and generally changes our perception.

We know scientifically that energy, can never be created or destroyed; it can only be transferred. So, when we take our story to God, He transfers the built-up harsh kinetic energy of moving through life, dissipates the pressure of it and prevents it from eroding our foundation.  All the stored-up pressure of holding onto things that we shouldn’t, replaying situations and conversations in our heads, worrying if we are enough and if we have enough, walking through betrayal, illness, fear and loss… and it changes everything without destroying or creating anything. It’s simply a transfer of burden. Even in the turbulence, He reminds us we are not alone.

I have prayed for God to bring release, screamed for it when I thought it should come. I discovered He doesn’t operate on my time frame but every single time He stands with me in the middle of it. He sees us and calls us by name. Every moment in prayer, everything we have already walked through, every hair on our head, every song He has sung over us, makes us more like Him. A family is important, and He has shown us through His words and through His actions. He knows us, and it is good to be known by Him.