While we celebrated

July 4, 2025, our country's 249th birthday. 

Many saw a day filled with family, friends, good food, and fireworks. But in a few places, an overwhelming darkness seemed to reign, literally coming out of nowhere. I wasn't in any of those places, but my still heart feels extra heavy today as I try to process so much incredible sadness. July 4th will never be the same for a lot of people.

Families gathered in nearby homes and cabins along the Guadalupe River in Texas.  Young children and teens enjoyed the time of their lives spending a week away from home at summer camp. Camp directors and young college-age camp counselors welcomed different groups of campers from week to week all summer, bonding deeply with each group. I'm not in Texas and I didn't know any of those families or campers. But I've camped right along that very river in a borrowed pop-up camper so we could float down the river in tubes alongside our friends. I cherish my memories of summer camp as a child, and I recently assumed the role of an adult leader in a cabin full of 11 year old girls at a camp. 

I don't know what any of those families, counselors, or campers had planned for the 4th of July, but I'm sure they anticipated some fireworks, some patriotic music, and some good food. Who was going to let a rain forecast dampen the mood? In fact, rain is quite welcome in the middle of a Texas summer. It started to rain around midnight. Who could have ever imagined how much rain would actually fall during those early mornings hours, bringing a deadly flash flood to sweep through their cabins before they even had a chance to get up for the day. Many campers survived and evacuated the camp in time. Many had to be rescued. But over a hundred people didn't make it when the river overtook them. Some entire families, along with camp directors, camp counselors, and a whole cabin of little girls got swept away. Over 30 children lost their lives. I can't even imagine the horror of being the one to recover their bodies as the flood waters began to recede. 

Later that same morning, a mission team from my church started out their day in Kenya with a carefully planned agenda. They'd been gone for a week already. I had all intentions of praying over each day's specific request but sadly did not keep up with my intentions. But as I sat out on my patio that morning and scrolled through Facebook, I saw the prayer calendar pop up, read their plans for the day, and immediately prayed for them. Then God burdened my heart for anyone on the team with any medical issues, so I prayed for that, too. 

Shortly after, I got a text from a friend asking for prayer for someone on the Kenya team with a medical emergency that landed them in ICU. And then not long after that, I got an e-mail from church about an urgent need for prayer, saying we needed a miracle. 

Her name was Bria. I didn't know her, but I recognized her husband as one of our worship leaders at church. I found out they had three beautiful young daughters, and she was a local dentist. She went on this trip to Kenya without her family, alongside a close friend who also went without her family. They went with a large team of 35 people (mostly from our church) to work with our church partner there. Both of our pastors and their wives (and families) went on the trip, too. 

Here is a picture of our Pastor praying over some of the team after calling them forward during one of the services at church the week before they left. (Bria is on the left with a long beige sweater.) He prayed for safety, strength, and for God to use each and every team member to use their gifts and talents for His glory. No one fathomed the thought that one of them might not come back. 

Sometime on Friday morning in Kenya, Bria suffered from seizures (not common to her) that led to cardiac arrest. After prolonged CPR, they airlifted her to Nairobi to their Intensive Care Unit. The lack of oxygen led to extensive brain damage, and they had her on life support. Our church (and thousands of others) rallied in prayer for a miracle while her husband and a friend fought against all odds to travel to the other side of the world as quickly as possible, despite a multitude of impossibilities. They made it early Sunday mornings just a couple hours before she slipped into eternity with Jesus, the one she went to Kenya to serve (and served every day here, as well). She and her husband both had fully surrendered their lives to Christ and committed to go wherever he called them to go, despite their own agendas. 

The team returned back to the States late last night and are likely just beginning the long road of processing the events of this trip. They all were supposed to come home together, or at least that's what we thought. But God had other plans all along. He wasn't surprised. In fact, he placed the burden on her heart to go, provided the funds necessary, and made the trip possible. He had a purpose for her to be there, along with every single person on that team. Just like he purposed for all those little girls and their counselors to attend a Christian summer camp last week along the Guadalupe River. He knows the number of our days before we're even born, and there's nothing we can do to to change that number.

Why did I get to take my sixth graders to camp in May and still come back home to blog about the experience while those little girls didn't get to go home to talk about all the fun camp memories? Why did I get to go on a mission trip with our Dominican team, come back home, and make a photo book of our adventure while the Kenya team had to come back fractured and incomplete? Some came home heavy-hearted, Bria went home to heaven, and her husband and close friends remain across the world to deal with all the complications of trying to bring her earthly shell back home. 

We know God is good and will gain glory through even these most heart wrenching circumstances. But it leaves our hearts so heavy with sadness thinking of those who have to go on without the ones they love. Moms and dads who lost their daughters, kids who lost siblings. Three daughters who lost their mom. A husband who lost his wife, his ministry partner, his soulmate. A church who lost a sister-in-Christ. A team who traveled to the other side of the world together and lost one of their own while there. 

No, I didn't know any of these people personally, but I'd be lying to say I'm not affected by these tragedies.  Even for me, July 4th will never be the same. Even I feel numb.