In August 2005, we spent a weekend camping at MacDonald Park in Carnation, Washington, where we played croquet, sat around the campfire, and watched the devastation of Hurricane Katrina on the tv in our trailer. Our daughter, Kimberly, who was 11 at the time, was riveted to the coverage and kept saying, “Someone should help those people.” We have spent the last 19 years talking about helping people in crisis while she’s deployed to Corpus Christi, Houston, Mississippi, and Puerto Rico for hurricane responses and to various wildfires in California. Her full-time job with the Red Cross in Orange County, California keeps her in the midst of disaster responses. As her mom, I have followed along and talked many hours of crisis response and disaster preparedness. I couldn’t help becoming passionate about it right along with her. It is a calling that I am proud to share with my daughter.

In April 2022, I had the privilege to travel to Poland to help Ukrainian refugees in the midst of the Russian attack on Ukraine. This trip solidified the desire in my heart to respond to people in crisis. Even more important than the physical help is the spiritual first aid that people need. It is incredibly fulfilling to pray with someone who is hurting and to offer a hug in the name of Jesus.

After moving to San Antonio, Texas last year and becoming a part of Community Bible Church, I was thrilled to discover that they had a disaster response team. Last weekend was my first deployment with the team to Houston to help with the clean up after Hurricane Beryl. It was an amazing time with my team of five as we took down trees and removed debris. If you have ever been to Houston, or any part of Texas for that matter, you will probably be familiar with the biggest hurdle in doing outdoor work of any kind: HUMIDITY! It was hot and humid! To say I sweat would be an understatement.

On our second day of clearing trees, I was sitting in the shade, dumping water over my head to cool off. As I watched my teammates work in the hot sun, satan whispered in my head, “You aren’t carrying your weight.” I will take this moment to confess that satan has whispered and yelled a multitude of lies in my head for most of my life, and unfortunately, it was in direct conflict with what God says to and about me. For most of my life, that voice was the loudest and got my attention one hundred percent of the time. It is too easy to give in and allow that voice to convince me that it speaks truth. It does not take any faith or work to believe that voice. The feelings of condemnation and shame entered my head right along with the words, and they took root in my heart and mind.

My journey toward emotional healing began when I lost my best friend in the midst of accusations, misunderstanding and hurtful words. My broken heart sought the comfort of the Lord and His truth about me. God sang to me through Lauren Daigle’s “You Say” song in the middle of the wilderness. I finally began to embrace who God says I am instead of those words of accusation that satan yells at me in a moment of weakness. I am choosing to believe what God says.

So right there in the backyard of a Houston family last weekend, I blocked out the enemy’s voice and listened for my Father’s voice. My father answered the enemy, “It’s not your weight to carry my beloved Jennifer. I called you here with a team to do what you can to show My love to these people in the aftermath of the hurricane. The weight is mine to carry. I’ve got it. I am not comparing you to anyone else. All I want from you is your willingness to come and be a part of what I am doing here. I do not judge based on your ability or your stamina. I don’t care about your physical capacity or limitations. I am pleased with you.”

It is such a sweet victory when you listen for your Father’s voice.