As a volunteer with Christian Appalachian Project, I go into homes to assist in creating a safer, warmer, and dryer living environment so lives may be made happier and more comfortable. It felt like forever driving those winding back roads passing below jagged cliffs overhanging the blacktop and crossing narrow bridges that could barely fit two cars width, but soon enough those narrow bridges led me to the place that would become my home for nearly six months.
It was just another day in February when I first met this family. Jason, a math professor at one of the local colleges, and Molly are the parents of seven beautiful children. The kids’ joy stood out to me the very first time I met them. With grins stretching from one ear to the other and dimples in their rosy cheeks, they were bright lights illuminating a home that had been darkened by tragedy only months before. A queen-sized bed was pushed up into the corner. It was one of two beds they had to use in what would be an overcrowded house even if it were fully complete. In the youngest kids’ eyes this was still a happy, healthy home.
However, the story looked much different upon adjusting my gaze from the starry-eyed children to see the reality of the situation that this family was facing. A double-wide trailer, which sat about a base runner’s steal up the holler from their newly rebuilt five bedroom home, was filled with joy and happiness. It was another typical day, nothing out of the ordinary. The day came to a close and the darkness began to settle in for the night. Molly was startled and shot up in bed, eyes wide open and fully alert. Something was not right. Smoke! Quickly she awoke Jason and frantically went to fetch the kids while Jason attempted to put out the mysterious blaze that was threatening his family. Molly gathered all the children and rushed outside with an urgency that she had never before experienced in her life. Suddenly, a couple of the children turned and headed back into the fire that was beginning to burn as if it were being fed by gasoline. Jason’s efforts were futile by this time, leaving him only the option of protecting the single most important thing he had: his family. The black smoke filled his lungs as he went to retrieve the little ones from the danger. The fire was swallowing up the trailer at tremendous speed, and it would not be long before the blaze would reduce the structure to an empty skeleton stripped of the life it once supported and protected.
Jason emerged from the blinding cloud, now a raging plume shooting high into the night sky. They narrowly made it out. Looking upon the place that once stood what they had worked so hard for was suddenly gone. Their lives had been turned upside down. Jason, once seemingly in the driver’s seat of his own life, took a backseat. With no home and no insurance, he was no longer in command. Humility got behind the wheel and steered it in directions he never would have imagined.
The first stop would be their mountain neighbor, Christian Appalachian Project, who was ready to invite them into their family and serve them the food that God had lovingly provided them. They had reached their first destination. After receiving the gift of a house by his mother, and with the help of community and CAP donations, Jason was able to begin working on rebuilding their lives. But this home would need a lot of tender loving care. The progress was slow and steady, when all of the sudden the floor fell out from under him--literally. Jason’s foot found its way through the kitchen ceiling, injuring his back. The physical nourishment he was working so hard to provide for his family came to an end.
Through Christian Appalachian Project, folks from Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Kentucky came to assist in getting this family back on their feet. People gathered and gave their time, talent, and treasure to be there for a family that they did not know. Every person and group made their mark in the Kentucky mud and that very Kentucky mud left its mark on them. Most importantly, each volunteer made their imprint upon Jason, Molly, and kids’ lives, and likewise, this special family offered a piece of their heart to the multitudes that came from all across the countryside.
We are a community much larger than what this world can possibly understand. We are the hope for another in need. We are the light in the darkness shining from high up on the mountaintops. We live for each other. We are one family. This has been the best story I have ever been a part of. We marched into battle together and fought for a common cause. Everyone gave so much of themselves, their energy exhausted at the end of each day. Rain or shine, we walked upright. We pushed forward with determination, one small victory at a time. The war was finally over and peace was restored to a well- deserving family.
God has built many bridges for us and continues building them each and every day, however, I will always remember one of the finishing touches to help wrap up this gift of a family and their long, hard journey. The last volunteer group to leave their footprints behind was given the task of destructing the old porches that once provided a place to relax and watch the sun pass over and disappear beyond the hills. They were pulling apart the last porch and decided to save a three-foot wide portion of the old structure. There is a small wash out that runs through the yard, a drainage ditch for the runoff produced by the heavy mountain rains. A couple rustic and rickety boards laid across the little trench, allowing for an easier trek to their big white van parked just up the way, and a garden signed by a farmer’s hand. These volunteers decided to repurpose part of the old porch joist to build a more sturdy and permanent walking bridge. With the old section of joist and just enough decking board scraps left over from the construction of three porches, they created a sound bridge that would not give. It was dug into the rocky Appalachian dirt and was there to stay. The bridge had been built; the battle fought and won.
God provided us with just what we needed and peace was found. A bridge was rebuilt to bridge the gap between the old and the new. Every group contributed to the building of the bridge. Each laid a plank down, leaving us one step closer to our final destination. Now the final board was securely in place and our newly created family could now take their final step into a new beginning together. This family was made new in Christ. As Jason pulled his family out from the fire, so God pulls us from the fire. So let us all rest now and let God continue to build up fires within our hearts that they may never be distinguished. Every day may you persevere in faith that you may say at the end of the day: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” —2 TIMOTHY 4:7 NIV
