This morning, I conducted what we call chapel/religious services with my guys at Warfighter. I’d not had much sleep and was very sluggish this morning after very little rest. The enemy kept whispering to me, “No one’s going to come to your service, chaplain. It’s going to fail.” But I pressed on.

I went and ate a few runny eggs and greasy bacon at chow and labored to pray to the Lord: “God, bring your people. Use me to encourage them this morning. Glorify yourself.” But I still felt enervated. And the passage I had chosen to teach was from James, about perseverance amidst trials. I felt the internal conflict. How could I encourage my fellow soldiers when I’d slept so little and felt so insufficient? But I pressed on.

I went around the area of operations and checked on everyone and reminded them of the service in the next hour. Soon, the shelter began to see bodies. Soldiers showed up–red, yellow, black, and white, and all of us in Army green. “What can we do to set up, chaplain?” they asked.

“If y’all can set up some tables and chairs, that’d be great.” Inside, I was suddenly bursting with joy. They were showing up.

Within three minutes, about 35 soldiers were gathered. I felt like God had said, “Hey, chaplain. Watch this. Don’t doubt me.”

My cup was suddenly full.

I laid out the elements for the Lord’s Supper, opened my notebook with sermon notes, and opened my Bible, and began.

A buddy of mine snapped a few pictures of some of us.

I taught through a couple of verses from James and Peter, and cross-referenced a passage from Hebrews 12. The soldiers opened up. We talked. I listened. Then I taught some more, and tried to truly listen to our guys. God moved.

Afterwards, a lieutenant came up to me to speak. He shared about his family, his faith background, and about his military ambitions. Then another soldier came to me about his kids. Then another soldier and I spoke of his struggles and his appreciation for the homily. On and on it went. “Red, yellow, black, and white; they are precious in his sight,” is the way the ditty goes from children’s church. Guess what? That’s true, still.

It’s not about our insecurities. It’s not about our insufficiencies. It’s about God. It’s that Christ is all and he is sufficient. “From every tribe, language, people, and nation” is the way John phrases it in Revelation. Yes and amen.