Saturday, October 16, 2010

It's My Fault

It was around 1999. I liked her the first time I met her. She had come to pastor our church. We had lost our minister after 15 years and gone through a few interims who should have handed in the towel years ago. No one could fill this minister's shoes. And then she came along. Everything was going to be better. She was going to make everything right again. Our membership would soar and the pews would be filled.

Wrong. She stepped in and the church went to you know where. She was a strict conservative and the majority of our members were quite liberal. Some left immediately upon hearing she was appointed, scattering like roaches when the lights come on. Others gave her one shot at it. Most of the remaining members started leaving, and we were down to just a few faithful followers who had been in that church since Ford invented the motor car. Well, not that long. It just got worse. She didn't want to do anything we had done before, nothing. Our worship service changed, order and content. Our fellowship time changed. My ex and I left the church. About a year later she was forced to resign.

Anyway, I said a few things about her that I probably shouldn't have. She did have some big shoes to fill, but my goodness, she wouldn't even allow "In the Garden" to be played at people's funerals. No one is going to tell me what I can have played at my funeral. Well, I'll be dead, but you know what I mean.

Fast forward to this year. I am involved in e-prayer from that church. Hundreds of people from the past and present at that church are on it. I like it because I get to hear about people I knew long ago. I haven't seen her for at least 10 years now. This woman's son, who is in his 20's, has been battling lymphoma for well over a year now. Just out of college, he was looking forward to his life, I'm sure: good job, a wife, and family. It wasn't meant to be.

Thurday, after about 18 months and lots of prayer from the church who forgave this woman for being such a lousy minister, I got the e-mail I had been hoping for. The young man was now in remission and doing extremely well. The doctors were going to have to continue being very diligent with his case, but at least he was getting some time to rest, with no treatments, some time to actually enjoy his life. I was so happy for her whole family.

Then Friday morning, I got another e-mail. Her husband just dropped dead in their house that morning. Wow. Guess who feels guilty for that? Me. Ugh.


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