Thoughts from the Pastor

Bobby Tyson

Faith, Fort Bragg, and the Power of Community


Faith, Fort Bragg, and the Power of Community

By Chaplain Michael Bielefeld

It’s always fun when a pastor begins with, “I don’t know what the next guy’s going to say, but I just wanted to share a few words with you…” That’s where I’m coming from today—just wanting to offer a few thoughts, especially in light of Fort Bragg Sunday.

My name is Michael Alfeld. I’m one of the chaplains currently stationed at Fort Bragg—but only for the next 10 days. After that, I’ll be PCS’ing (permanent change of station) to Italy. So right now, my family and I are living in a nearly empty house. Our belongings have already shipped out, and we’re “camping out” indoors. Living the dream, right?

This season of transition is familiar to many in the Fort Bragg community. People are constantly coming and going—from all over the map to all over the map. Whether you're part of the 82nd Airborne, the sustainment elements, special operations, or a joint command, Fort Bragg represents a wide range of units and missions. And with that comes a shared experience of the unknown.

The Weight of the Unknown

That’s really what I want to talk about: the weight and anxiety of uncertainty. Soldiers and paratroopers turn on the news, scroll through social media, and wonder—Am I next? Am I getting a phone call? Am I being alerted or deployed?

And behind every service member is a family. That’s something I think the church needs to deeply understand. While the service member is off doing what Uncle Sam asks, the spouse—often without a local support system—is left managing everything: parenting, budgeting, cooking, cleaning, schooling, and more. My wife and I have four kids, so I speak from experience. When I deploy, she steps into every role: mom, dad, provider, caretaker, teacher. It’s relentless. And society doesn’t slow down to accommodate that.

Where the Church Comes In

That’s where the church plays such a vital role. The church should be a support system—a place where people can breathe. A place where you can relax, where someone can watch your kids for an hour, where you can share a meal, laugh, and lean on others.

For soldiers, this kind of community is life-giving. As a chaplain, I’ve met countless service members who avoid anything related to faith because of past experiences with the church—some painful, some traumatic. They’ve been burned by religious expectations or felt judged in their spiritual walk.

But the church has the opportunity to be different: to offer friendship without judgment, support without conditions, love without limits. You never know what someone is carrying. As I told Pastor Bobby over lunch not long ago, there’s this constant, exhausting grind—task after task, responsibility after responsibility, and very little margin for error or emotion.

A Real-Life Moment

Let me share a quick story. While our household goods were being packed for the move, our water main broke. Total chaos. Thankfully, my wife had already signed the kids up for Vacation Bible School at a church in Southern Pines. So she loaded them up, volunteered at VBS, and served joyfully—while I stayed back, coordinating with the movers and Aqua to get the water line fixed. Even in chaos, there’s grace.

But moments like that highlight the pressure families live under—and the importance of having a community that says, “We’re here for you.”

The Cry of the Heart: “God, Help Me”

Many of us—military families, church families, and everyone in between—are living in a constant state of unknown. We don’t know what tomorrow holds. We’re just doing the best we can. And yet, we have this hope:


“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

When everything else fades, and when human support feels absent or unavailable, we can still cry out: “God, help me.”

This is the starting point of prayer. It’s a cry of surrender and trust. It’s an acknowledgment that we don’t have to do life alone. God puts people in our path for a reason. Maybe today, the Holy Spirit prompts you to take a walk—and on that walk, you meet a family in need. That’s the kind of ministry we’re called to: quiet, compassionate, present.

Church, Let’s Show Up

To my fellow service members: it’s okay to say you need help.

To the church: let’s be willing to say, “Can I help you?”—even if it’s just offering a hug, sharing a meal, or saying a simple prayer.

In this grind of life—deployment, transition, uncertainty—we all need each other. We all need God. And we all need a community where it’s safe to say, “I’m tired.”

So thank you for letting me share these few words. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for being the church.

God bless.


Chaplain Michael Bielefeld