Beyond the Storm: Hope in the Wake of Hurricane Ian

Forrest White (Missions Director)

Under a shade tree in her backyard, the Hurricane Ian survivor undertook the task she had been putting off for seven months since the massive storm flooded her home in St. James City.

Many of the papers spread out before her were molded together from the flood waters.

“This is the part I’ve dreaded the most,” she said. “I was hoping another hurricane would come along and blow it all away.”

With that she began.

There were crayon drawings done by her three children in elementary school. Ruined. Important family papers. Barely legible. Letters and cards saved through the years, the ink smeared as if from a thousand tears. Her mother’s death certificate. Her father’s retirement papers.

There were three piles at her feet – one to throw away, one she deemed “important” to burn, one to keep.

I sat there in silence. What words could possibly ease such pain?

I met her only a few hours earlier, having traveled to Pine Island in late April with others from First United to serve in this storm ravaged area.

I was in Nashville the weekend before when a call came from Jill Hockin, a staff member with the Florida Conference Disaster Recovery Ministry.

“We wanted to know if your team would consider a case,” she said.

I told her I didn’t need any details. My response was automatic. Yes.

As servants we should follow the example set by Isaiah in the story of his commissioning.

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” (Isaiah 6:8)

He didn’t ask for details. He simply trusted God to work through him and made himself available.

Jill told me a bit of the survivor’s story. (In disaster recovery, names are kept confidential. That’s why I’m not sharing hers.) Once there, I found out much more.

She has been living in a donated RV on her property since Ian strayed from his trek toward Tampa Bay and took a turn toward her. There are two trailers and a shed in her yard as well, storing items until the house can be repaired. Some things were piled up outside, too, covered by blue tarps.

She was overwhelmed by the daunting task of letting go, still holding on to things ruined by the storm surge. Trash to neighbors who complained. Treasures to her. The county issued a code violation. If something wasn’t done soon, she would be fined.

But that’s only a part of the reason we were asked to help.

She was deeply depressed. Her disaster case manager was concerned.

Our team spoke the night before about some of the guiding principles in disaster response:

· We go above all to provide a caring presence, to show Christian love in action as John the Apostle (I John 3:18) urged. No task was more important than being with survivors, listening to their stories of great loss.

· You don’t throw anything away without permission. Storm survivors have had so much taken from them. You always let them decide what to keep. With each choice they make, survivors regain a bit of control, a small step in their healing journey.

· Take a gift if offered. If it’s money you may donate it. But let them give. Survivors often want desperately to give not simply receive. And it is always easier to serve than to be served.

Over the course of our time together, we heard stories about the life our 69-year-old new friend lived before the storm and after.

We also met her 31-year-old son, whom God used to speak clearly to me. We hadn’t seen him on Friday. On Saturday morning, shortly after we arrived, his mom woke him up. He got in his truck and left in a hurry, blowing past a Disaster Recovery staff member who wanted to chat about all that was left to be done.

Even though I hate it when people make assumptions about me, I made an assumption about him, that he wasn’t interested in helping and was a part of the problem.

When I returned from digging a trench at another worksite, drenched in sweat, I actually met the young man.

With each passing moment in his presence I felt worse and worse about my assumption.

He asked questions about our faith. He worked to clean up the garage. He give our team members small gifts. He told me about his job as a fence builder. He thanked us for coming. He asked what I do for a living, listened intently, and then said this, “When the next big (hurricane) comes I would like to go help.”

By then I was feeling about as small as a guy my size can feel. It was as if God was saying to me, “So, you hate it when people assume the worst about you and that’s what you did, without getting to know him, without remembering all he had been through.”

Shame. On. Me. Ugh.

In the end, when we left for home on Saturday afternoon, I believe we left mom and son better than we found them and, as always, we were better, too, because of them and what they shared with us.

As our departure neared, the mom gave me a really cool set of coasters pressed out of aluminum and a small, matching bowl.

It made her happy to give.

“I would be honored to have this,” I told her.

Our team was honored, too, to have been a part of her journey, to have answered the call as Isaiah did by saying, “Here am I. Send me!”

Join us on a Hurricane Ian recovery team in the fall. We will send a team led by Susan Ehrhart, Early Response Team leader, October 12-14 and one led by Forrest White, Director of Missions, November 9-11. Both teams will leave on Thursday afternoon, work full days Friday and Saturday and return to First United late Saturday. For information contact Forrest at fwhite@firstumc.org.