For First Responders

First Responder Life

Working as a first responder is something that brings a sense of pride and honor for the individual serving as a firefighter, EMS professional, law enforcement officer, or dispatcher. There is an inherent feeling of being a part of something bigger than one's self. It feels like having a membership to an exclusive elite club, or a position in a sacred tribe, or belonging to a tight-knit family. Not everyone gets in. The perks are pretty nice. And, for the most part, the work is viewed as admirable by the general public.

For the loved ones of first responders, there is a sense of belonging to this special club of public servants, but there is also a feeling of not quite fitting in. Confusion, frustration, and anxiety are often the underlying feelings with families and friends. Never knowing if your loved one will come home at the end of the shift is nerve-wracking. Feeling neglected because of missed holidays, mandatory overtime shifts, poor pay, and the ever-changing mental landscape of their loved ones causes stress and strain. Sure, wearing the badge of being loved by a first responder comes with some special perks as well, but sometimes the perks don't seem worth it.

Working or volunteering in the industry in this day and age no longer carries the prestige or the glamour it once did. The dark side of the work will rear its' ugly head sooner rather than later. Animosity and malicious scrutiny from the public, as well as poor support from local leaders, and visions of gruesome calls that come back to haunt them, only add to the difficulty that these public servants and their loved ones endure. The burnout rate is high. Suicide attempts and deaths are skyrocketing. Addiction, depression, traumatic stress, and compassion fatigue can smother and then snuff out the life of the men and women behind the badge.

It's crucial for first responders to have a strong personal foundation, strong support systems, access to excellent and vetted resources, and opportunities to decompress and rest. It is my goal to help provide a beacon of light for those who work as first responders or love a first responder. As a firefighter and as a widow of a firefighter, I know firsthand what it's like to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. I know what it's like to wrestle with the ghosts that I thought I had buried a long time ago. I know what it's like to be frustrated because of missed birthdays, non-stop phone calls, and feeling as if I am last in line for my loved one's attention. I intimately know the life of a first responder, and I deeply understand the perils that come with having loved and then lost one.

I AM HERE TO TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Beauty
for
Ashes

In the world of first responders and their families, trauma often arrives uninvited. It shows up in the middle of the night, on a chaotic scene, or in the quiet moments after the call is over. Those experiences change us. We can’t unsee what we’ve seen or unknow what we now know. Life doesn’t look the same after tragedy; it becomes raw, real, and honest.

But even in the ashes, there is beauty. Scripture reminds us, “He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning” (Isaiah 61:3, NLT). God can take the worst moments—the ones that leave us questioning everything—and use them to reshape our hearts and strengthen our faith.

Pain has a way of refining us. It strips away the noise and brings into focus what truly matters: faith, family, and purpose. As first responders and loved ones, our stories don’t end with loss. They can become testimonies of resilience and grace.

You are not defined by what broke you—you are defined by what you build after. And sometimes, your healing becomes the spark that lights the way for someone else still walking through the dark.