After Hurricane Helene

Billy Glosson was part of Leaders Collective’s fifth church planter cohort (2018-2019). He joined the cohort as part of his ongoing development and preparation to plant a church in Western North Carolina. This is a bit of his story.

Six years ago, my wife and I packed our bags and moved from mid-Missouri to my hometown of Morganton, NC. We came with a simple mission: to plant a gospel-centered church in the growing rural South. It wasn’t long before we felt the weight of that calling. Church planting is tough, and starting in March of 2020 (yes, right before the pandemic) was even tougher. Between navigating a global pandemic and the pushback from cultural easy-believism and rejection of Christianity, it felt like our efforts were just a trickle against the rushing torrent of brokenness. But we held fast, knowing that God does not despise the day of small things. Little by little, we grew. Eventually, we saw His kindness when another local church merged with us, gifting us their building. It was an unexpected and gracious provision.

In the middle of this grind, an old high school friend reached out wanting to catch up. He co-hosted a popular local podcast that often took local pastors to task, and he was an outspoken atheist. Our conversations stretched over months of coffee meetups, but slowly, he softened. One night, in the midst of a personal crisis, he reached out, his life in turmoil. He felt like there might be something to this Jesus I spoke of. That night, he turned to the scriptures, and he became a Christian; God brought him from death to life. A few weeks later, I had the incredible joy of baptizing him, celebrating his new birth in Christ.

The Impact of Hurricane Helene

Mission Church had just started to feel settled. We had installed our first elders, and it felt like we were finally getting our footing. Then, on September 27, Hurricane Helene walloped Western North Carolina. The river basin in Morganton broke, flooding neighborhoods, wiping out businesses, and leaving the town without power or water for days. Downed trees and power lines littered the streets, but the hardest part was the silence. Communication was nearly impossible. Cell service was down, and the only news we received came through word of mouth.

It wasn’t until days later, when I left town to shower, that I saw the destruction in places like Chimney Rock and Asheville. The devastation was staggering—I remember sitting in my car, overwhelmed and weeping.

In the aftermath, we didn’t know what to do since communication was still spotty. I drove to our building that Saturday to try and figure out a way to hold some kind of Sunday gathering. When I arrived, I was shocked—our building had power, miraculously, even with downed trees all around. That Sunday morning was one of the sweetest gatherings I’ve ever been a part of.

People were weeping and hugging, checking on each other. Handwritten directions to homes with pools were passed around so people could flush toilets. We didn’t have open grocery stores, cell service, or running water, but we had power and a place to gather. For the next several days, we opened the building in the morning, providing lunch, a place to charge phones, and some sense of routine for kids and parents. We opened again in the afternoon and handed out water and other essential supplies to our community. Those days were long and heavy, but they were filled with the sweetness of community and God’s provision.

How to Help

Many have asked how they can help. We are overwhelmed by the kindness of churches across the country. Our building is full of needed supplies, but if you want to help specifically, give to local churches that were most heavily impacted, like those in Spruce Pine and Asheville. Most significantly, we ask for prayer. Never before have I seen so much favor for the church in this area. People have been overwhelmed by the response of local churches in the midst of this crisis. Pray that we can walk through this door of opportunity and see many come from death to life.

Living Hope