The Light in the Storm: From Tornadoes to Championship, Carried by a Team of Angels

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” — John 1:5

Last post was about who’s on your bus.

This one?

This is about who shows up when the storm hits.

Because that’s your team.

Not when it’s easy.

Not when everything is going right.

But when everything floods—literally.

Last Wednesday morning, I got a call I’ll never forget:

“Your basement is filled with water… and it just keeps coming.”

I was on my way to my dad’s best friend’s funeral.

And in an instant—everything shifted.

Our brand-new finished basement in our Mequon home—The River House—was completely underwater.

Floors. Drywall. Cabinets. Bar top. Refrigerator. Murphy bed.

All of it.

Gone in a matter of hours.

But before the panic could fully set in—

our team was already there.

James Miller, our project manager, had arrived that morning.

And just like that—he went into action.

No panic. No hesitation. Just leadership.

A plumber happened to already be there when the Wisconsin storms rolled in—assessing the broken sump pump.

One call led to another.

A restoration team was mobilized.

A dumpster showed up.

And suddenly there were people—hands on, moving fast—ripping up what was damaged so we could begin again.

Not just working.

Caring.

Calm. Steady. Present.

Meanwhile, Nick was back in Ohio loading a U-Haul.

We were split between two states, two homes, one move—and now one disaster.

There were tears.

There was shock.

But then…

there was a reset.

Because this is what teams do.

They don’t sit in the chaos.

They adjust.

They respond.

They move forward—together.

I made it to the funeral just in time.

And sitting there, something came over me.

Perspective.

Yes—our basement was destroyed.

But my dad was sitting right next to me.

Alive.

My kids were healthy.

And back at our house—

a team of angels was already at work.

After Mass, one of my best friends hugged me and said:

“Maybe this is God cleansing your house before you move in.”

We laughed.

We cried.

And I drove straight to the house.

When I walked in, I couldn’t believe it.

Everything James had worked on—that we had just celebrated Easter in...

destroyed.

And then I saw it.

One small thing.

A light fixture over the kitchen sink.

Still shining.

Perfectly untouched.

And I kept saying:

“That light is bringing me so much joy today.”

Because it was.

In the middle of all that damage—

there was still light.

And in that moment, I felt it so clearly:

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.”

Even our brand-new Pottery Barn and Arhaus rugs—the ones we had just brought to Wisconsin over Easter—were completely soaked.

We grabbed tarps.

And James’ team carried those heavy, waterlogged rugs upstairs so I could try to save them.

Again—

the team showed up.

The next day, Nick pulled in with the U-Haul.

And more help came.

High school boys from Homestead High School showed up to unload.

They didn’t just unload.

They stayed.

They carried.

They helped clear debris into the dumpster.

No questions asked.

Just… there.

And that’s when it hit me:

This is what great teams do.

They don’t wait to be asked.

They show up.

They lift.

They carry.

They get you through.

By Friday afternoon, somehow—

we were sitting at Elie’s AAU basketball tournament.

From flooded basement…

to a basketball court.

And if you’ve ever watched great teams—you know this feeling.

It’s the next play mentality.

The same mindset Mike Krzyzewski built with Team USA.

You can’t control everything.

Not the storm.

Not the situation.

Not the timing.

But you can control:

How you respond.

How you show up.

How you trust your team.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Elie’s team won Friday—lifting all of our spirits.

Saturday—family filled the gym.

They lost a close one.

But the love in that gym?

Unmatched.

Then came Saturday night.

9:45 PM game.

Tired. Drained. Long week behind them.

But something shifted.

Elie—quiet, steady Elie—stepped up.

Four three-pointers in the second half.

Her team came together in a way you could feel.

They trusted each other.

They played for each other.

And just like that—

they were headed to the Championship.

Sunday morning?

Sunshine.

Clear skies.

A reminder again—

that storms don’t last forever.

Light always breaks through.

And by the end of the day—

she came home a Champion.

And that’s when it all made sense.

You can’t control the storm.

But you can trust that God is in it.

Working through it.

Guiding you through the people He places in your life.

Because in the middle of the chaos—

what was being built wasn’t just a house.

It was a team.

A team of people who:

Show up without being asked

Carry you when you’re overwhelmed

Bring light when everything feels dark

So yes—

the basement flooded.

Yes—

we lost a lot.

But we gained something even bigger:

A reminder that even in our hardest moments—

the light never goes out.

Because life isn’t about avoiding the storms.

It’s about:

Finding the light

Trusting your people

And knowing that even in the darkest moments…

the darkness can never extinguish it.

And sometimes—

after the storm—

you don’t just recover.

You come back and win.

And this time?

We didn’t just win a championship.

We were carried.

By a team.

By angels.

By a light that never went out—

and never will.

And that’s when you realize…

you were never in the dark to begin with.