In the Middle of the Storm

Yesterday was day five of serving with Mercy Chefs post-hurricane Milton, and to be honest, it broke me. By the time I sat down at my Bible study group, I was emotionally exhausted, weighed down by the devastation I had witnessed.

Seeing things on television never truly prepares you for what it feels like to be there, right in the middle of it all.

As my two friends and I delivered meals to a trailer park devastated by the storm, the first family we met was a woman with three small children—maybe five, three, and two years old. She cradled a tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket. I asked how old the baby was, and her reply hit me hard: “Twenty-two days.” My heart clenched, and I fought back tears as I asked if she needed anything more than the meal we brought. She softly said, “Wipes, if you have some.” I didn’t have any wipes with me, but I promised her I would get them.

This trailer park was not only battered by the storm, but the largest tree had fallen on their pipeline, leaving them without water. Imagine that—a newborn, just 15 days old when the hurricane hit, and now no running water. It’s hard enough being a mother, but to endure this?

We dropped off the meals, but I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The sadness leaked from my heart as I thought about what it must be like to live in those conditions, to be so heavily impacted by something out of your control.

We continued down the street, where my brave friend knocked on another door. A teenager, maybe 14-16 y/o, opened it, holding what seemed to be his one and half year-old brother, who was crying relentlessly. My friend, always so nurturing, picked him up, trying to soothe him, but he wouldn’t stop. The house smelled and as the baby reached out his tiny arms with a look as if begging us for us to take him with us,  I felt shattered. He was perfectly fine leaving with strangers. That crushed us.

We kept delivering meals, stopping at the end of the street. A man spotted us and quickly called his neighbor. They came running towards us, and with that, the last of our meals were gone. Forty meals, one street, and yet it felt like a drop in an ocean of need.

Only one person we met spoke English. For one hour, it felt as if I was in a third world country and not in a 34205 zip code. 

By the time we finished, I was spent. Emotionally drained. I wished for endless resources to do more. I wanted to be someone with the platform to raise massive awareness. I wanted to do more—and I still want to.

I know that after a couple of days and weeks and when the media moves on into the next big story, these people will be forgotten. This is happening in my city. What if everyone saw a need and instead of waiting for someone else to step in, we each asked, "If not me, then who?"

I’m venting, yes, but more than that, I’m creating awareness. I came from what the U.S. would call poverty, but I never felt poor. My mother did an incredible job raising us after the divorce, providing relentlessly in various ways.  Even in our toughest times, I never had to live in these dire circumstances.

Since the hurricane, I haven’t slept through the night. I wake up at dawn, thinking about how I can make a difference the next day, and the next, and the next.

I know I can’t help everyone. But what if each family helped another family? What if one neighborhood adopted a neighborhood? One zip code adopted another? We could truly rebuild, one family at a time.

Today, I’m taking a moment to replenish my soul. To focus on the blessings and the good in the midst of all the chaos.

I know we’re all stressed—financial strains are hitting hard as people scramble to replace roofs, fences, AC units, homes, vehicles, and entire homes.  It’s overwhelming. But if you have the time or the resources to help, I invite you to step up. Let’s be grateful we’re still here, and that we can overcome this together.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” —James 1:2-4

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” —James 1:12

The testing of my faith will produce perseverance so that I will not lack anything.

#ifnotmethenwho #letsrebuilttogether #hope2024