I spent yesterday doing disaster relief in the tornado destruction zone in Cookeville, Tennessee. I’m always hesitant to write about these experiences. Some may view my words as an attempt to pat myself on the back or garner attention. Please understand that is not my motivation. Whatever “attention” our efforts bring gets directed at the God we serve. Jesus gets ALL the glory and honor. 

I also hope that by sharing my experience, others become more aware of opportunities to serve. Case in point: after publicly telling my story to our church family at Bible study last night, several approached me asking questions. They want to get involved and be a part of the recovery effort. That’s the goal and my motivation for this blog.

My trip to Cookeville was a spur of the moment decision. I read an article on the tornado yesterday morning and felt compelled to do something—anything. I gathered a few belongings and granola bars and took off down I-40. 

I had no plan, which is unusual for me. Sometimes you just move toward an area of need and trust that God will work the specifics. I pulled into the Jackson Street Church of Christ in Cookeville where Churches of Christ Disaster Relief, Inc. is set up and operating. They didn’t need any volunteers there that day, but said various teams were out in the community helping those who had lost homes. That’s the answer I was looking for.

With the help of Google, I learned that much of the destruction occurred along Broad Street so I headed in that direction. The main zone of destruction is only accessible by first responders, residents, and utility workers…and by foot. In fact, farther west along that road, Search and Recovery operations are still ongoing. As of yesterday, 17 individuals were still unaccounted for.

I pulled into a partially damaged subdivision where a few dozen young people were piling up debris and cutting up downed trees. Looking like a college student myself (no comments!), I parked my car and joined in. The hardworking students were from nearby Tennessee Tech University. They were highly motivated and focused.

After two hours, I downed a couple of hot dogs courtesy of a nearby makeshift food ministry. I then walked west along Broad St. into the main destruction zone. No matter how many times you do this kind of work, it always breaks your heart. To the left, a used car dealership had been reduced to rubble. The damaged cars had been tossed about along the road and into a surrounding field. 

To the right, up on a hill, a home had been damaged beyond repair. A few dozen workers were spread out across the property, cutting up trees and transporting the wood and debris to the road. A giant crane was removing sections of the roof. A U-Haul van was out front and people, presumably family members, were filling it full of whatever household items could be salvaged. I joined the work crew for about an hour, working alongside several Marines wearing t-shirts that said, “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” If that is true, I thought, this community will eventually end up stronger as a result of this tragedy.

Mid-afternoon, I continued my journey west and joined another crew hauling debris from a mostly demolished home on the north side of the road. I soon found myself working alongside a couple of Marines, a few TN Tech students, and a dozen Mennonite men—people with very different backgrounds united by a mission to rid the area of downed trees and scattered debris.

After about 45 minutes, I noticed a grey-headed, bespectacled, elderly woman sitting on the steps of the collapsed front porch of the home. She was in a long-sleeved black t-shirt, red and black checkered pants, and high work boots. I went over and sat down beside her. She had a bruised chin and abrasions on the side of her face.  

“Are you the homeowner?” I asked.

“I am,” she replied. “Thank you for your help.”

She was clearly still in shock, not quite to the phase where the reality of the situation, and corresponding grief, sets in. Rather than talk or dispense advice, my natural inclination, I decided to just listen.

For the next 10 minutes, she told me her story. At around 2 o’clock a.m., she was awoken by the sound of sirens. She was initially puzzled by this, because she didn’t hear the sound of thunderstorms or rain. She pulled her little dog close and pulled a big blanket over the two of them. 

Moments later, the “freight train”—what we now know to be an EF-4 tornado—came roaring down her street. Her home began to shake and she could hear the howl of the wind and the sound of glass breaking. Suddenly, her bed was elevated, slammed against the side of the room, and dropped. With sections of her home collapsing around her, and debris flying everywhere, she thought this is how it will end.

But God spared her. Her story wouldn’t end in a pile of rubble on Broad Street in Putnam County.

The storm passed by and things turned eerily quiet. She pushed aside some debris and cautiously stepped from her bed, still clutching her little dog. There was just enough visibility for her to realize much of her home had caved in. The only way out was through a partially broken window. She busted the remainder of it out and somehow found the strength to climb outside to freedom. Once in her side yard, she was able to make out a scene of chaos and destruction through the darkness. She couldn’t see her neighbors’ homes on account of the downed trees and debris field.

But, looking southward, off in the distance, she spotted a light.

Not knowing what else to do, she screamed to the top of her lungs.

“Heeeeelp!”

A second later, the reply.

“Walk toward the light, Miss Lambert!”

“Walk toward the light and it’ll be okay!”

Truer words have never been spoken.

Still gripping her dog, and unaware of the blood flowing from her leg, she carefully negotiated the debris field and walked toward the light. Her neighbor comforted her, stopped the flow of blood from her leg, and bandaged her wound. At daylight, her son arrived on the scene. After working his way into her home and noticing the amount of blood on the floor in her bedroom, he determined his mom needed to go to the hospital.

Miss Lambert had several staples put into her leg and had multiple bruises and abrasions all over her body. But no bones were broken, and her wounds are not life-threatening. The same cannot be said for the 18 fatalities in Putnam County alone. On top of that, 88 souls were injured and, as of today, three are still missing.

I thanked Miss Lambert for sharing her story and asked if I could pray with her. She said that would be wonderful—that she needed all the prayers she could get. I also told her that I have lots of friends around the country who would want to pray for her as well.

So, if you can go to Cookeville or Nashville or one of the other impacted communities and help, please do so. They desperately need “boots on the ground.” If you can donate to a relief agency, either directly or through your church, that would also be greatly appreciated.

Additionally, I’m asking you to pray for the families and friends of those who have lost loved ones and for the injured. Pray that the missing can be found. Pray for healing. God knows all their names and all their situations. 

I would also like to encourage you to send a card or note of encouragement to Miss Chris Lambert. Although her home is destroyed (I’ll include some photos), the post office is holding her mail for her. I know a bunch of cards would mean a lot to this elderly woman who has lost almost all of her worldly possessions. You can reach her at:

            Chris Lambert

            1681 W. Broad St.

            Cookeville, TN 38501

After returning home last night, I read an article about the disaster. One of the victims, Rodney Mathis, said, “We’ve lost everything. But you know what, it’s not what you got, it’s who you got…And we got a lot of good neighbors here. We pull together and you’ll see the community pull together and clean this up. You won’t know it in a week.”

It’s not what you got, it’s who you got. 

Miss Lambert’s got us…so let’s write to her and pray for her, along with the other victims.

In John 8:12, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Whatever situation you find yourself in—whatever struggles you’re facing in life—remember to walk toward the Light. 

Walk toward the Light and you’ll be okay.