Visiting hospitals in deployment zones adds layers of complexity. Patients often suffer traumatic injuries, and resources can be limited. During deployment, I visited a field hospital where a young service member was recovering from serious wounds. His family could not be there, and he wrestled with fear and loneliness. I shared scripture, prayed with him, and promised to keep checking in. Our conversations became a lifeline in a difficult time. Even far from home, chaplains bring God’s presence to the bedside. We walk with patients and families through physical and spiritual healing. Scripture Reflection: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)
Waiting rooms are spaces of tension and hope. Loved ones wait for news, often in silence or tears. Chaplains visit these spaces to offer words of comfort or simply a quiet presence.
Hospitals are places of healing, but also exhaustion, heartbreak, and burnout. Nurses, doctors, and support staff bear tremendous emotional weight. While visiting a hospital during deployment, I spent time with the nursing staff. Many confessed feelings of helplessness...
Families often arrive at the hospital overwhelmed, frightened, and uncertain. They may face decisions about life support, surgeries, or terminal care. As chaplains, we journey with them through the darkest hours.
When most people think of a hospital chaplain, they picture someone quietly praying at a bedside or leading a short devotional. But our role is far richer and more complex. We are spiritual companions, counselors, moral supporters, and bridges between patients, families, and medical staff.
Grief is not a time for advice. It is a time for presence. Unfortunately, even with good intentions, we sometimes say things that wound rather than heal. In moments of loss, less is more.
When a sailor walks into your office or stops you in a passageway with red eyes and a heavy heart, the weight of their grief is sacred ground. As chaplains, we are often the first person they speak to after receiving devastating news. What we say, or do not say, can help them breathe or deepen the ache.
Not every act of service is seen. Not every prayer is public. Not every leader is on a stage. Yet, some of the most powerful expressions of purpose and calling happen far from the spotlight, quietly, consistently, and with deep conviction.
Chaplains serve the broken while carrying their own wounds. We are human. We miss our families too. We feel fear, anger, fatigue, and loneliness. But we do not let those things lead us. We find strength in our calling.
Worship during deployment is not polished. It is raw and real. Sometimes it happens in a converted storage room, a tent, or a dusty corner of a hangar. Yet, it becomes holy ground.