The Least of These

Church members live on-call to respond when a need arises
By Philip Morlan

I ’m a preacher’s kid, and in typical P.K. fashion, I can’t recall very many messages that my dad gave, but there are two things about my dad’s pastorate that will never slip my memory. One was how he devoted himself to the study of God’s Word, and the second, was how he spent a lot of time in the hospital visiting families. This may surprise you, but it wasn’t until last November (16 years later) that the significance and value of why my dad spent all that timevisiting the sick and hurting really began to penetrate my heart. He was not just doing what pastors do; he was living out Scripture.

The week after Thanksgiving, I received a call from one of our members, Celeste Clydesdale. She told me how a little boy named Ethan was severely burned in a bon-fire accident. He and his mother had been visiting friends over the holidays. They had no family here to offer care and support; so, she asked if I would be willing to go to the hospital and visit.

Upon entering his dimly lit room, I saw his little body lying in that hospital bed all wrapped up like a mummy. His mom had just stepped out to get some dinner and a nurse was finishing an adjustment to his I.V. My life changed over the next hour and a half. Ethan and I became buddies. Although he could barley speak or even open his eyes, as he bobbed in and out of sleep, we managed to sneak in conversations about frogs and lizards and karate and the beach.

I had only been there about 20 minutes when he reached out his burned hand for me to hold. In all honesty, I didn’t know how to offer hope to a six-year-old boy whose life had just been changed forever, but God’s hand was at work through mine and I knew that He used my presence that night to help bring peace to a hurting and scared young boy.

Now it might sound like this story is about me, but that would hardly be Beyond Belief. The real purpose is to tell how God used Ethan to begin revealing an untold story of faithfulness, service and unconditional love within Fellowship’s body. The truth is that many people among us are quietly giving their lives away every day to families who are sick and in need.

I mentioned Celeste earlier. She, along with several other Fellowship folks, continued visiting Ethan and his mom over the three months they lived in Vanderbilt’s Burn Unit. These people built relationships, they brought gifts, they prayed and they carried a message of hope that God has not abandoned the hurting.

Recently I learned that there are several people on 24-hour call for the Paulson family. Mark and Gina’s son Silas has been in and out of the hospital for over a year, and at the drop of a phone call, people like Tammy Prosen and Nancy Thomas are at the hospital day or night ministering to Gina and Silas. While Mark works during the day, Dena Wilson has provided childcare for the Paulson’s other three children, and more people from surrounding community groups have committed to help with food, childcare and other needs.

Kevin and Melinda McCormick heard about a four-year-old boy who was cruelly burned by his mom. He had become a ward of the state and was literally alone in the hospital with no family. They were so moved by what had happened that they got on the phone and collected hundreds of dollars worth of goods to be donated so this boy could have something special to call his own.

Karthi Masters with 5-year-old Kajal

Blair and Karthi Masters have recently taken in a five-year-old girl, Kajal, from India who was blinded by her mother. They are in the process of adopting this precious child. A group of their Fellowship friends recognized a need that Blair and Karthi had, they prayed, put their money together and purchased a van for the Masters who didn’t have a vehicle large enough to carry their growing family.

Stories like these go on and on. Those who make up the body of Fellowship are acting as the physical body of Christ every day. In Matthew 25, Jesus said, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.”

The least of these are among us. It doesn’t take much—just a little time and willingness to let God work through you. You may feel ill-equipped and it will probably be uncomfortable, but if God can speak through a donkey and use a fish to carry out His purposes, there’s no doubt He can use all of us. Begin looking around and ask yourself what you can do for the least of these—you may never be the same.