When Tragedy Strikes: Holding Faith and Each Other
This week, heartbreaking news emerged from Kerr County, Texas, where a sudden flash flood along the Guadalupe River swept away a group of young children and their counselors camping along its shores. Others across the region also lost their lives as floodwaters surged without warning. Homes were destroyed. Families shattered. Communities now face the unimaginable.
Some news outlets have called it an “Act of God.”
But I cannot accept that.
The God I believe in does not take children. God did not create climate change—we did. These disasters are not divine judgment; they are the result of our choices and actions. And yet, in devastation like this, many of us instinctively reach toward something greater than ourselves—God, love, grace—whatever name we give it.
A chaplain on the ground said, “I don’t know how anyone would get through this type of loss without faith.” I believe that, too.
Faith—however it lives in you—is often what steadies us when everything else falls apart. It’s the quiet assurance that we’re not alone in our grief. It’s the thread of hope that helps us keep breathing, even when we don’t know how to move forward. It’s not about religion—it’s about relationship: with the Divine, with one another, with compassion itself.
And sometimes, faith moves us to action.
So many in the region have lost not just loved ones, but everything they owned. While we can’t undo the devastation, we can help carry the weight. That’s why I’ll be donating to the United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR). They’re a division of Global Ministries providing emergency grants, supplies, and relief through their U.S. Disaster Response efforts, including in Texas. If you’d like to join me, here’s the easiest way to give:
🔗 Donate to UMCOR – U.S. Disaster Response (Advance #901670)
(When prompted, select U.S. Disaster Response / Advance #901670 to ensure your gift goes toward immediate flood relief.)
I will also be praying for the families and survivors, for the first responders and volunteers, those quiet helpers who show up, day after day, to do the hard, holy work of love on the ground. They’re doing God’s work in the most tangible way.
Grief may bring us to our knees—but compassion helps us rise again.
Even in the darkest valley, love finds a way.
