On September 28, I traveled to Houma, Louisiana. As an American Red Cross mental health volunteer, I worked with other volunteers in shelters that housed displaced hurricane victims. The evacuees slept on cots or air mattresses, their meager belongings gathered around their "bed." Lights went out at 10:00 p.m. and came back on at 6:00 a.m. daily. The temperature was set in the middle to low 60s to keep viruses minimal, since so many people were there for the majority of the day. Volunteers slept in the same type of setting; it took some adjustment to sleeping and living in such conditions. I could not imagine how it must have felt for someone to live like that with their entire "life" summed up in a few small bags.

I listened to story after story of experiences. Some were used to hurricanes, but never thought the levee collapse would ever happen. Many said this was why they "waited" so long before trying to leave. It reminded me of Noah’s message to the people before the flood came.

Others told of swimming through flood water, or waiting to be rescued from the second floor or roof of their home, or from a highway overpass. Still others voiced frustration at being in a situation they had "no control over." They appreciated a place to sleep with food to eat, and the promise of receiving financial assistance, but it was the "feeling of helplessness" that was difficult to accept. Their home, job, and family were totally disrupted in a matter of days.

I saw faith in many who testified of their belief that God is able to make a way out of no way. Some local volunteers lost everything too, yet they worked alongside me to "help others in need." No one discussed theological differences or why their beliefs were superior to others. I even had a conversation with a priest; we discussed how the world desperately needed to see and hear the love of Jesus. We agreed we all need Him in our lives every day. It was amazing to hear him express the same feelings I had. I could see what Paul meant when he said "there is neither Jew nor Gentile, there is neither bond or free... for ye are all one in Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3:28 KJV).

I worked 12–14 hour shifts. During my two-week stay, I saw the number of shelter residents decrease from approximately 600 to around 200–300. People found more stable housing and moved in a direction to find a better life.

Our paths may never cross again, but the fellowship was worth it. The testimonies about their belief in God and how He would get them through this time of loss were a blessing. My experience changed my whole outlook on life. It increased my belief in God, who makes no mistakes, but at the same time "works all things together for good to them that love Him" (Romans 8:28).

Dexter Clarke is a member of the Fairhaven Adventist Church in Flint, Michigan, and is a mental health social worker.