Often the most significant ministries of the church are quiet ones, reflective of the personality and spirit of the one carrying them out. Like an Olympic diver, the best attempts to serve are the ones that make the least amount of splash. Some folks never get that, and others just come by it naturally. Today, I want to point to one of those.

Three weeks ago, a series of tornadoes ripped a path through Southwest Georgia. That area was near my family home, and one of the hardest-hit sites was Albany, where we lived and served for nearly eight years. When disaster comes, two of the first groups to show up ready to help are the Red Cross and Disaster Relief workers from Baptist churches around the country. Our very own Kelvin Foster is a chaplain affiliated with both and was deployed for the better part of two weeks. On his Facebook page he posted pictures of the destruction with the simple phrase “no words.” Yesterday I talked with a friend delivering loads of supplies to the region. He said the same things. You just can’t capture the breadth and depth of the carnage of property, communities, lives, and families. But what you can do is come along beside it, roll up your sleeves, and offer what help you can. That’s what Kelvin did.

The fatalities were counted in dozens. These were folks who just came home from work and school and then were gone. As often happens, poorer areas were hit the hardest – but grief, shock, pain, and helplessness come in all demographics. It also hits the responders, contractors, and relief workers who come to pick up the pieces and begin the work of putting lives back together that will never be whole again.

In that kind of world, there is such a thing as the ministry of presence. Just being there. Listening. Hugging. Praying. Sympathizing. That is the work of a chaplain. I am grateful that Kelvin has chosen to use these years of his life to help people in their darkest hours. It is an incarnational extension of our Lord and the ministry of our church. It is a picture of kingdom activity that makes the church real and relevant in a world that often does not see us that way. The need is still overwhelming and the recovery will go on for years. But Kelvin returned to us having made a difference in the lives he took the initiative to touch. He didn’t plan for that – there’s no way he could have. But he was prepared. And when the moment came, as will many others, he was the proverbial “ready, willing, and able.” The great Finley Edge said years ago that the challenge to the church was that ministry was being done by the wrong people in the wrong place – clergy inside the walls. But this is one more shining example of the people of God owning the call and running to the need. As your pastor, I am proud and encouraged of the many ways ministry makes it to the front lines. God bless you Kelvin for your faithful service and example. May your tribe increase.