Turning trials into triumphs – Samaritan’s Purse Deployment, Part 6

Do the skies themselves send down showers? No, it is you, Lord our God. Therefore, our hope is in You, for You are the one who does all this. (Jeremiah 14:22) 

On day five of my Samaritan’s Purse (SP) Fort Myers deployment, our team was dispatched to perform a gut-out in a flooded golf course community. In addition to the massive debris piles, contractor trucks lined both sides of this residential community, and progress through the streets became a challenge to our team bus. While homes in this neighborhood may have been more expensive, the devastation was just as profuse as what I’d witnessed in trailer parks earlier that week.   

Floods are great equalizers. Whether one has a lot or a little, a luxury or mobile home, when all you’ve ever owned is sitting on the curb ruined by water, you’re in nearly the same position as your neighbor. Those with savings may be able to rebuild. Those that do not are forced to wait for Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) assistance to kick in. 

Many mobile homeowners have the added stressor of not knowing if the landowner will even allow them to rebuild. Most don’t “own the dirt.” There is a genuine concern that they will all be kicked out and their dwellings replaced with high-rise condos or luxury homes close to the coast. That fear and sadness were palpable in every house we visited.   

The same can be said when our team arrived at Herm and Nancy’s home. While we were consistently greeted by smiles and gratitude wherever we went, there was also pain lingering below the façade.   

As I walked to the house, a coconut on a nearby sidewalk caught my attention. A team member was hoping to bring one home, so I stopped to examine it for her. Much to my surprise, a medium-sized tilapia corpse remained in the grass, lying next to the coconut. While tilapia is typically a freshwater fish, we were five miles from the coast and any body of water. Above and beyond the flood damage I witnessed earlier in the week, seeing this carcass so far from its natural environment validated the ferocity of Hurricane Ian’s storm surge.   

After passing the piles of water-logged carpet, mattresses, and belongings encompassing 30 feet or more of their front lawn, our team prayed with the homeowners before beginning our work. Once inside, I made a beeline to Nancy, holding her Shih Tzu, Gigi, in her kitchen as the onslaught of workers descended upon her domain.   

“I just wanted to let you know that your home is going to look very different when we’re done with it,” I explained. “We’re going to pull out the doors, doorframes, baseboards, kitchen cabinets, and all the drywall from about four feet down to the floor.  

“It’s also going to get very loud,” I continued, already having to yell above the banging of hammers as the work began. “Gigi might get scared. I wanted to prepare you so you can think about where you might want to go when that happens.”   

“Okay,” replied Nancy, whose eyes had grown enormous.   

“I know it’s a lot, but you’re not alone,” I advised. “We’re here to help however we can.”   

At this, I hugged Nancy. I could feel her crying beneath my embrace. “God loves you,” I said when we parted. “As do we. This is only temporary. Don’t forget that.”   

With that, I moved to the living room to see Herm standing amid all the hustle and bustle of our SP work. I reached out, put my arm around him, and spoke into his ear, hoping he could hear me above the noise. I then provided him with the same description I had just given Nancy. As I looked over at him, all he could say was, “I’ve gotta sit down.”   

“Absolutely,” I said and walked Herm over to his sunroom to find him a place to sit. “It’s going to get even louder as we start to cut the walls out,” I advised. “I just told Nancy that you might want to take Gigi out at some point if it gets any worse.”   

“Okay,” came Herm’s reply. I hugged him and smiled, telling him I needed to get to work but would be close if he needed anything.   

As the demolition continued throughout the morning, I focused on Nancy to ensure she was okay.   

At one point, my work brought me close to where Nancy was being helped by one of SP’s day volunteers. The two were bagging clothing from Nancy’s closet, deciding what could be kept and what needed to go. The water line in her closet stood two feet high, and mold was already starting to grow on the drywall. When my team mate walked away to take a bag to the garage, I swooped in and hugged Nancy, asking her how she was doing.   

Tears filled Nancy’s eyes at my permission to lower her guard.   

“I know it’s hard,” I said. “We don’t always understand why God allows these things to happen, but there’s always a purpose. He will never leave or forsake you. He is right here with you today as are we.”   

“I don’t know how many times I can keep climbing up again,” Nancy said. “I lost my son and daughter, and now all this.”   

Looking into Nancy’s eyes, I told her, “I understand loss. I escaped two abusive marriages, and I know it’s hard to understand why we have to experience hardships. But God uses everything that touches us for His purpose. He doesn’t want any of us to perish. Maybe we have to live through a disaster because our neighbor needed the trauma to bring him closer to God. I’m so sorry you had to experience all of this. Just know there is a purpose, and it won’t be wasted.   

“Remember, you’re not alone,” I repeated. “God and I love you! This is only temporary. God has so much more in store for you! His Word tells us to store our treasures in heaven, where none of this will even be a memory. Keep holding on. God will bring you through this.”   

By then, Nancy’s help had returned, so I hugged her again and returned to work.   

At lunchtime, I found Herm and Nancy in their sunroom and asked them if I could share my meal with them. When Nancy protested, I asked her not to steal my blessing and let me share. She laughingly agreed.   

Before they could change their minds, I rushed to our team bus to grab my brown bag and return. Splitting my sandwich between Herm and Nancy, I opened my peanut butter crackers and sat down on the floor beside them to eat.   

As we divided the rest of my lunch, Nancy told me how Herm had nearly died a few years earlier after suffering multiple heart attacks. Herm showed me the scar on his leg where doctors had removed a vein to repair his heart. “I almost lost him,” said Nancy.  

“But you didn’t,” I responded. “God knew you would need Herm today, and he is here. I want you to start thinking about everything differently if you can. You need to flip your stories over. Instead of thinking about what you’ve endured, turn your thoughts over and look at your challenges as victories.  

“Life is like a quilt,” I explained. “On the underside, everything looks messy and knotted. We can’t tell what’s going on. But one day, we’ll see the other side of the quilt to view the masterpiece God made out of our lives. You need to flip the coin over and turn your trials into triumphs. You should no longer say, look at what I’ve endured, but look at what God brought me through so I can testify about His sustaining grace!” 

As I passed around more food, the tenor of our conversation changed. We all laughed at Gigi’s antics as Nancy asked if I minded if she shared her sandwich half with her beloved pup. “Please do!” I replied. “I’m so happy you have her! Look how God gave her to you at just the right time to help you today. He knew exactly what you needed before you did!”   

I returned to work and later helped Herm go through the clothes in his closet. As we uncovered business cards from his former restaurant in PA, I asked him what he’d serve me for dinner if I visited him. Our conversation became lighter as time passed, and pure joy ensued when Herm found a Halloween wig buried deep on one of his shelves. I asked him if he’d put it on. He did, resulting in peals of laughter, an impromptu photo of the two of us, and photos with other team members as he proudly wore the braided wig through the rest of the house for everyone to see and share in the healing power of laughter.   

Upon inspiration from God, I suggested to Nancy, “Maybe you could tear down the wall in your kitchen. Open floor plans are all the rage. Think of how big and beautiful this space could be.”  

“I like it,” Nancy replied. “I’ll talk to Herm about it.”   

As we returned on day two to assist Herm and Nancy in their home, I reached out to David, who had joined our Beyond The Storm team on the same day I did. We had learned from our leader that David had 38 years of general contracting experience when he was introduced to our group. I asked him if it might be possible to take down the kitchen wall.  

“We could totally do that,” David said.   

“Good,” I replied. “Will you please talk to them about it? It would be great for them to see past what’s happening today and look to the future.”   

“I will,” David promised.  

As work progressed, I realized I was utterly in love with this couple whose kindness and ready smiles had invaded my soul. Finding Nancy that morning, I asked her if she’d talked to Herm about the wall.   

“I did,” Nancy said. “He likes the idea, too.”   

“That’s fantastic,” I replied. “I asked David to come talk to you about it as he’s a general contractor.”   

As we finished our work, I asked David to take my picture on my phone with Herm and Nancy, telling them they were more than welcome to adopt me whenever they wanted. We hugged, and the joy I felt in this experience was beyond compare.   

“David told us that he’s going to come back to help us rebuild,” Nancy told me.   

“And I know someone who’d like to come back to help,” David said, catching my eye.   

“Absolutely,” I said, staring hard at David. Did he really mean this? I wondered. Could God have put such a mission on his heart to return to assist these precious souls and help them move forward? What an incredible thing that would be.   

After signing their SP Bible, we circled up with Herm and Nancy for one last send-off. As we embraced, promises were made as we shared cell phone numbers. “This isn’t good-bye,” I said. “I will be back. I love you both so much!”   

While driving home that afternoon, my heart soared as I thought of all the ways God had filled my soul that past week. I had found community with my fellow SP workers, hope for my pursuit of future chaplaincy training, connection with both the homeowners and our team, closeness to God in serving Him with my whole heart, and joy in complete surrender to my Savior.   

All I did was say, “Here I am, Lord. Send me,” and God filled my soul in return. My week with Samaritan’s Purse forever changed my life. As I’d shared with my fellow SP volunteers the night before, “I’m not sure I can ever take a ‘normal’ vacation again.”   

There is such joy in surrender and even more to this story yet to be told. I will never be the same again. Life is good, but God is great!   

We serve a risen Savior who will always turn our trials into triumphs. We have only to surrender all the pieces of our broken puzzles for our Divine Creator to put us back together again.   

“Our hope is in You, for You are the one who does all this.” (Jeremiah 14:22) 

Author’s note: For those of my readers who know what happened next, no spoilers, please.