I grew up in south Florida, where some kids celebrated hurricanes as a substitute for the north’s coveted snow days. Hurricanes afforded my family great memories of sitting together in candlelight, playing Monopoly, and reading stories aloud to each other. We used to take post-storm drives, observing the property damage like other families might drive to observe holiday lights at Christmastime. We hunkered down and toughed out even record-setting storms like Hurricane Andrew of 1992, Hurricane Mitch of 1998 and the back-to-back behemoths of 2004’s Charley, Frances, Ivan and Jeanne.

Of course, we heard the reports of despair and displacement. We watched the news. We drove by the FEMA neighborhoods. We knew hurricanes were a natural assault on human livelihood. Yet I never reconciled the factual cruelty of hurricanes with the experiential reality of my childhood. As a teenager, I wrote an essay on Hurricane Jeanne and saw that the death toll exceeded 3,000, but somehow that reality didn’t sink in. My entire life, hurricanes were never a big deal to me … until now.

I’ve barely followed the updates of Hurricane Harvey’s decimation of the greater Houston area. I’ve seen only a few video clips on the internet. Yet a burden of sadness has come over me like I’ve never experienced for a natural disaster. One video captured rescuers pulling two unconscious infants from an overturned Chevy Silverado that was nearly submerged in dark-brown rushing flood waters. The image shook me to my core.

In another video, I witnessed a distraught woman with her 5-year old daughter. A well-intentioned reporter was trying to interview her. The interview went sour as the woman began crying and gave the reporter a profanity-laced rebuke.

“Been without food for five days, and y’all trying to interview us to find what is wrong with us, with me shivering cold, with my kids wet, with a microphone in my face,” she screamed before the audio was cut from the video.

In a third video clip, I witnessed a man explaining through violent tears that he lost everything he had worked for. He trembled and tried to keep talking, but he couldn’t continue.

These images affected me. Sadness, and even anger, have plagued me. I’ve never felt this way about a natural disaster. Why now?

As a pastor, the last sermon I gave, although unrelated to the hurricane, emphasized that negative emotions can have an ordained purpose. Feelings like sadness, anger and misery play a significant role in stirring humans into sacrificial action. Maybe God wants us to feel sadness as a catalyst toward the fight against injustice. Perhaps humans must embrace sorrow and righteous anger as God does before we can achieve appropriate levels of altruism, generosity and compassion. After all, we are made in God’s likeness. Think about this: God suffers, God feels pain, God becomes saddened, God gets angry, and, as odd as it seems, God embraces these emotions.

It’s easier to shrug off the plethora of afflictions we see across this planet. Who wants to feel heartache? I have a missionary friend who is trying to end rural poverty in his region. It seems overwhelming when I consider the challenges he faces. Most of us are out of practice when it comes to embracing the negative emotions such harsh realities bring. We’d rather avoid negativity at all costs. When we get angry, we often act foolishly. When we get sad, we tend to wallow in hopelessness. When will we look to God as the perfect example of holy anger and holy sorrow? When will we include God in our burdens? When will we begin to share our struggle with the God who struggles? He is the ultimate partner when it comes to making a positive impact on this planet.

Most of us are out of practice when it comes to embracing the negative emotions harsh realities bring.

You probably don’t have the same convictions I have. You may not be passionate about the same issues. But chances are, something grieves you and stirs your heart. God made each of us unique, with distinct passions and convictions, and I assume it’s because action needs to take place across a spectrum of adversities. Most people can’t feed orphans at the same time they are rescuing human trafficking victims, during their discovery of a cure for cancer that also ends climate change. That’s why I now have a burden for hurricane victims, and my missionary friend has a burden for rural poverty, and you’ve got a burden for something different. Your negativity has a purpose. The question for you is: Are you embracing your negative emotions, or are you doing whatever you can to avoid all forms of negativity?

God is using current events to stir my compassion and draw my attention toward something I used to shrug off. I am no longer detached from this devastating reality, so doesn’t that make me responsible to do something? Harvey hit home for me just in time for a new hurricane to hit my literal home. This is my opportunity to take action. Hurricane Irma is now moving toward my former home state of Florida, as well as South Carolina, where I currently live. God stirred up a passion in me for a reason, and I am determined to provide aid as He enables.

If you would like to get involved with the relief efforts, consider partnering with Convoy of Hope, a disaster response organization with teams already in motion to provide relief in the affected areas.

Churches across the nation will pray, take up offerings and send volunteer teams to help clean up and rebuild homes and places of worship. If God burdens you for this mission, don’t close your heart to the need.