Peace amidst pandemonium – Samaritan’s Purse Deployment, Part 3

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. (Isaiah 26:3) 

On the afternoon of the first day of my Hurricane Ian relief deployment in Fort Myers, FL, my fellow Samaritan’s Purse team members and I were sent to another mobile home park in the Iona neighborhood. Like the one I detailed in my last post, this park suffered massive damage from the storm. The rising storm surge ruined what wasn’t wrecked by the winds. Few, if any, homes were spared from the ensuing chaos.   

Like before, rubble lined the streets of this hard-hit community. Unanchored mobile homes were turned on their sides by wind and water. Many anchored homes were split wide-open as if by a giant can opener, allowing passers-by to view straight into disheveled kitchens, living, and sleeping quarters. A pontoon boat stood smashed against one home that had been pushed off its foundation. A minivan rested nose-down in an adjoining lake – its bumper and muffler strewn behind its final destination when waters receded. Another vehicle remained against a lakeside pavilion with the front window smashed in – evidencing the impact of hitting the structure. Everywhere you looked, destruction was evident.   

The homeowner who had requested help was not quite ready for us to assist him when we arrived. Much of his personal belongings remained inside. Emotionally distraught, he only allowed two of our SP workers to enter his home to assess the damage. One of those individuals had opened the homeowner’s refrigerator only to be greeted by such a foul-smelling odor that she ran from the house gagging. Power had been off for 11 days at that point, and the owner hadn’t emptied anything from his fridge. When I entered to help, I wore a mask with Vicks VapoRub on my upper lip to shield me from the remaining odors in the home.   

Even with a crawl space to elevate his house 8-steps up from the street, the floors still had standing water that had to be pushed and shoveled out. After all the appliances were removed – including the fridge, which was now safely duct-taped shut – the drywall needed to be cut 4-feet up from the floor and removed. Before we could complete this work, the owner still had to decide what personal belongings he wanted us to take to his rented storage pod versus what he wanted us to discard. It was a slow process.  

While the owner was making these decisions, I walked next door to talk to the neighbors. The owner there had told me he had just purchased his motor home – sight unseen – on August 23rd. The property where he hoped to spend the winter months was now in ruins. When I asked whether he had flood insurance, he told me he couldn’t insure the house as it was over 20 years old.   

A vehicle rested in front of his home, covered with debris. I commented on the same. “I can see the water inside your car,” I said. “That’s horrible.”   

“That’s not my car,” the homeowner told me. “It floated here.”   

While I was astounded at this revelation, I could believe it after seeing all the wreckage in his neighborhood.   

“Let us know if we can help you,” I told the neighbor, Bob, who came out to introduce himself and his brother-in-law, who was helping him clean out the house.   

“I appreciate that,” Bob said smiling, “but we’re good!”  

That’s when I heard the music emanating from this man’s home. Beautiful music. Christian music. As Mark Schultz sang the lyrics to “I am,” I smiled, too. “I can hear you have the right music on to help you.” Bob agreed.   

“I’ll be praying for you!” I told him. “Never forget that you’re not alone.”  

We chatted for a bit longer before I returned to wait at the original house we had come to help. Our team leader returned to our SP box truck while waiting for permission to enter and do more. Most of our team was lingering outside, just itching to put their hands to work in service for our Savior. As the owner still wasn’t ready for us to enter, I walked back to my car to get my water bottle.   

While returning, something caught my eye, and I looked down to examine it. There, amidst all the chaos, heartache, and uncertainty, a 5-inch painted stone gently nestled against a driveway with the word “Peace” emblazoned upon it. I could only smile at God’s perfect timing, directing me to this message.   

With cars and boats floating down the street in the middle of the storm, I wondered at the rock’s location. There were only three possible explanations, I thought.   

1. The stone had always been there.   

2. The rock had floated there in the storm surge and rested in this location.  

3. Someone had placed the stone there as a blessing.   

When our chaplains arrived, I showed them the rock and commented on how God’s hand of peace presides over everything – even the havoc of a hurricane. The sun was shining, and God had placed us there to help. What could be more reassuring than that?   

The remainder of the day proved to be a hubbub of activity as we helped this homeowner move to the next phase of his recovery. As we clasped hands with him to bring tranquility to the trauma, I remembered the stone. It doesn’t matter how it got there, I thought. What matters is the message God sent me in finding it – and to all the others who will stop, look down, and see our Creator’s silent reassurance in the coming days.   

Our heavenly Father can bring beauty from ashes, peace to pandemonium, and smiles to homeowners who may have lost everything but still remember that God is the great “I Am.”  

 The presence of so many SP volunteers ready to help the hurting souls in this community proved the validity of that statement. I will never forget the privilege my heavenly Father granted me to witness and be part of the same.