Life of an Itinerate Pastor, part 2

I just changed my Facebook status. As I am packing, I am crying. I said that you could say that I am packing up my tears. As a United Methodist pastor, the reality is that we move. We say goodbye to one ministry field and hello to another. It is truly a time of grief and excitement. today, I want to talk about the grief as I leave Bay UMC.

It seems as if everything I am packing brings about a memory of something that has happened during my ministry in Bay. And when the memory comes, so do the tears. They are tears of joy mixed with tears of grief. I am the worst at keeping little momentos of things. So, when I came across something I kept from Youth 2007, I remembered my trip to North Carolina in which I drove one of the two vehicles that transported kids and adults. The other adult in my car was a wonderful woman named Dee. She was another single mom. We got to know each other so well on our trip. We laughed sometimes so hard, it was difficult to drive. We shared so much in our discussion. She began to feel more like a sister than anything. In October of 2008 on a sunny Sunday morning, Dee was out for her regular jog before church. She was hit by a car when the driver was blinded by the sunlight. Dee, who was in her early 40s, didn't survive the accident. She died a few days afterwards surrounded by her three daughters and other family members. I remember having to walk into the waiting room where probably 50 or more family members were gathered. I stepped off the elevator and had to tell them that Dee had died. This was the most difficult thing I think I had ever had to do in my ministry. That memory has caused a flood of emotions today.

When you have faced life and death issues with families, you have a bond that is far greater than one can imagine. Then to have to say goodbye to the families that you have loved in the midst of their joys and sadnesses, the feelings can be overwhelming.

How can a pastor experience grief as they leave one place and joy/excitement as they move to a new mission field in their ministry? It is difficult, but pastors have been doing this for years. We have to grieve. We have to mourn the loss that we are experiencing, embrace it, and continue to love in the midst of it. We have to cry, express our loss, and pray for the continued strength each and every day. It is a loss for us, as well as for the church. We all have to allow time to express the loss we are feeling. We have to be able to say our goodbyes. I think it speaks volumes about the church we are leaving when we experience sadness and grief. It says, "this is a great congregation. This is a congregation that loves and has been loved." How will I say goodbye to babies I have baptized, to families I have loved in the worst of situations, to youth who have left notes on my office door, to children who have colored pictures for me, to everyone? How will I say goodbye? I will say it with love, and with tears.

As I pack my boxes, filled with memories, my tears fall. Teardrops land upon the items in the box. I seal the box and move on to the next. I am literally packing up my tears. I did state that if my things are wet when I unpack them, that I will be unpacking my tears. but when I unpack those tears, the time for grieving will be over. The time for tears of joy will begin. My grieving must be done in the next two and a half months. My tears must flow in order to move on to the next thing that God has for me.

When I arrived in Bay, I was greated by a wonderful group of people that I did not know, all who were waiting for me at my new home. They unloaded my moving van, brought us food, and welcomed us. I arrived with tears flowing because of the outpouring of love. As I leave, I will leave with my own tears of love flowing because of who the people at Bay UMC are. They are wonderful children of God who have allowed me to make mistakes, be a person, be their pastor, be their friend, and be a part of their family. I love you all so much. I will miss you. I will grieve for you, but I know that whoever comes after me will love you just as much, if not more. You are a wonderful congregation. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your lives for the last four years. You will always be loved by me, even when I am no longer here in Bay.