H7 Story: Little Things Make A Big Difference

By Andy Schlesing & Wendi Kitsteiner
By Andy Schlesing & Wendi Kitsteiner

FCC’s very own Daniel Shrader captured the shocking collapse of the Kinser Bridge on Highway 107, perched roughly 60 feet above the pre-Helene flood height. He recorded it being washed away along with many homes, hopes, and holdings as the waters and debris crested the edge.  Those who escaped the flood weren’t spared, but largely left without power or water, uncertain of the remaining roads and bridges with diminished capacity to check on the welfare of their community. Dark days lay ahead as the continued search for the missing hoisted the death toll higher and higher.

But in the chaos, mud, and loss, God could be clearly seen. Not in a burning bush or billowing smoke and storm. Not in a pillar of cloud or fire. Rather, God could be seen in the radiant obedience of His body, His people.

David Widmaier was one of those humans present as the rains ceased and the clean-up began. Once a resident of the state of Florida and someone who works in construction, he is no stranger to disaster relief. He has also worked previously with Samaritan’s Purse on multiple campaigns and had helped his Chattanooga church after a tornado strike. But this was something completely different.

“Today hit me the hardest,” David wrote on Facebook on October 2nd. Like most people in the area, he was doing what he could to help those who lost so much. “After three days of digging out five houses covered in silt with skid steers, seeing the look of overwhelming hopelessness on their faces and realizing that most of them do not have flood insurance, it hit me like a ton of bricks that this afternoon, my job ‘helping them’ is complete.”

David explained that after finding all the earthly belongings that they could, that would be all he could do. His ability to help had ended and their new reality was just getting started. “This is rough stuff,” he went on to say. “However, I know I have a God that loves me and loves them, and all of this will be for his glory. I am thankful to be able to work alongside my son and father through this incredibly hard time serving others.”

As the floodwaters receded, Jesus’ people arose in response to the disaster. Jesus’ eyes saw the needs and rallied the rest of the body. His hands and feet shoveled mud, removed debris, and distributed resources. His voice spoke encouragement to the overwhelmed and prayed peace over the grieving. His arms embraced the sick and hurting and brought them comfort and healing. Each part of the body swiftly reacted in harmonious unison according to its ordained design. In tragedy, God was found precisely where He always is—not distantly aloof, but sovereignly working in the midst of it all.

David echoed these sentiments when he shared a specific story of loss and love that occurred about a week after the storms had abated. They had come upon a resident of a Chuckey community that was without help and completely overwhelmed. “They were contemplating just knocking down the house because their entire home was submerged into the attic. There was two feet of mud spread throughout the entire basement. The thought of what it would take was overwhelming.” Dave took the time to talk to them and prayed with them explaining that they were not alone. Not knowing where the help would come from, they agreed to let David and his team help them save their house. “I sent a message to Emma Beddingfield and asked her to post it,” David went on. She did.

The next day, 20 people worked one bucket at a time starting the impossible process of emptying the basement through a three foot door. Over the next two days they were joined by Team Rubicon, the Tree ministry, a gentlemen from Greeneville with a tractor and box blade, people from FCC, one guy who drove from Texas to help and our incredible citizens of the local community.

“From the Hensley’s bringing and preparing food for around 50 volunteers each day, John Deere Greeneville running our battery chargers so we can have light in a very dark basement, a church from Fall Branch showing up in full force and group of individuals hearing about us in Jonesborough and just coming out on their own to lend a hand.” David added that Roto-Rooter even brought two port-o-lets unannounced to the job site. “Little things make a big difference,” he went on to explain. “Thank God for giving us continued strength and for always supplying our every need.”

The homeowner that David helped, put it this way, “We were just going to let it go. There was no way to salvage it by ourselves, help was dwindling, and I didn’t want to spend the next year not seeing my son. [An FCCer] showed up and told us it could be done. We had so many doubts, didn’t know this guy at all, and were tired … so tired. We showed up the next morning and met them and a bunch of other people that I can’t remember. It was all a crazy whirlwind of amazingness before our eyes after that. The countless people that were dropping everything and coming together to help… us. We didn’t get everyone’s name, still don’t remember some, never got to say goodbye or even a thank you … they didn’t care. They still showed up and worked their butts off to help complete strangers. We have plans, we have a place, and we have hope. We’re gonna get through this, but we couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

This is just one story of so many spread among our entire church congregation. While some worked on homes or with medical care, others helped unload donations or picked up items. So many people did so many little things to help our community. Over the last four weeks, FCC’ers haven’t stopped; each working with the giftedness granted them by their Creator.  We’re reminded in Paul’s letters to the churches in Rome and Corinth that all are equipped differently.  FCC’ers serve in hospitality, healing & medicine, encouragement, administration, heavy equipment operation, prayer, construction, generosity, teaching, leadership, and more. What a beautiful thing we’ve observed on numerous occasions to arrive at a flooded home and see so many of you cheerfully providing coffee (the lifeblood in our veins and the oil of our operation), exquisite meals to strengthen victims and volunteers, supplies and equipment for the work, and labor for the tasks. As shovels and buckets remove debris, chainsaws untangle mountains of woven trees, and recovered possessions are tenderly washed and organized, homeowners are transformed before our eyes from hopeless to hopeful about their situation as you, Christ’s body, helped them do what seemed impossible.

Their burden was too heavy to carry on their own.

And so the body of Christ helped them carry it.