Loss.
We have all suffered loss at some point in life.
The word loss has several different meanings. For some of us, loss is as simple as losing our favorite pen or as big as losing a vehicle to a wreck. For others, loss is losing a job. Others, losing a limb in an accident. And yet for others, it is as hard as losing a parent, spouse, child, or friend.
To be frank, loss sucks!
Today is the second day of February 2020. And yesterday was the 2nd death that has affected my family this year. 1 week ago, Larry and I were in Princeton, Ky for the funeral for his best friend for more than 20 years. Yesterday, I got the call that my stepmom had passed away. Both of them were sick for a short period of time and both of them were labeled as “the sickest person” in their respective hospitals.
These deaths have affected us in different ways. Larry hasn’t lost many people in his life. This was his first long time friend he lost. It affected him differently than other deaths that have happened. I, on the other hand, have suffered from an unusually unfair amount of losses.
However, yesterday’s death hit me in a totally different way than others have. You see, I was blessed to have a number of parents in my life. 5 to be exact. Many of you may know that my mother passed away in April of 1977 following the birth of her 3rd child. I wasn’t raised by my biological dad however; I did have a great relationship with him. I went on to be raised by my great aunt and uncle. My biological dad passed away on July 4th, 2005, 1 day after his 53rd birthday. My great aunt passed away in October of 2010 following complications from a surgery and my great uncle passed away from old age in October of 2016. Yesterday, my stepmom passed away from a short battle with cancer.
Having multiple dads and moms, was cool in a sense, yet frustrating and hard at the same time. Cool, simply because it made my story different from others. Frustrating, well, because none of them got along. And hard because I have had to handle the death of 5 parents.
Other losses I have dealt with have been the same as you all, loss of friends due to loss of trust or moving or just drifting apart and loss of family members due to the same reasons. Some losses have been easy to deal with however, other losses have been extremely hard to deal with.
Loss due to death is hard to deal with but also easy to deal with at the same time. I say this because when it comes to death you know that you will never see that person again. There is no wondering. Loss due to moving is hard at the moment but you have the hope that you will eventually get to see that person again. To me, loss due to drifting apart is not as hard as loss due to losing trust. When it comes to drifting apart, its because of both parties have not put much effort into the relationship. When it comes loss of trust it is typically one-sided. I am the side that once trust is loss, I will cut you off. It is a defense mechanism for me. I have been hurt so much that I will not allow myself to be put in that position again to be hurt. God is working on me in this.
I have hurt people in the past because they have hurt me. Does that make it right? No, absolutely not. Unfortunately, this is a learned behavior. That doesn’t excuse it. It explains part of what makes me tick but doesn’t excuse it. What makes me sad is that I have inadvertently taught this behavior to my kids. I have taught them to treat other people like this.
I bring all of this up to share where I am in life at this moment. The month of February is a bittersweet month. 26 years ago on the 10th I gave birth to my first born, my baby boy. This year is the first time in 26 years that I will not be able to celebrate with him. And it breaks my heart in a way that I never thought would be possible.
He is a great kid. One that is loved dearly and that loves hard. He is one that would do anything for any of us but one that also suffers from mental illness, hard-heartedness, and is running as hard as he can from the calling that has been placed on his life. He is tough, he is fierce, and he is explosive. He has had to deal with some pretty intense situations, some major heartbreaks, and deaths that no 26-year-old should have to deal with.
When he moved out when he was 19 it was tough. He left in a way that was highly confusing for me. When he left, he had absolutely no contact with us from the moment he closed the door until 1 month later. The moment he walked out of the door I felt like my world was coming to a halt. Each day that went by my heart broke a little more and a little more. Then he called and all was good in the world again.
Fast forward a few years. Our relationship was still good. He needed to move home for a bit, and we welcomed it. Things were really great for a while. Then we had a few blowups and things would simmer down. Things would be good for a while. Things started getting a little intense but were still good. Then on the Monday following Easter of 2019, he came home from work angry, I mean really angry. He came in the door, didn’t say a word to us, packed what he could into the cab of his truck and left. The last thing he said to his dad was “you all will never hear from me again”.
And we haven’t.
Not.a.peep.
No Mother’s Day phone call or text.
No birthday call or text.
No thanksgiving call or text.
No Christmas call or text.
Nothing.
To say that I am hurting is to say the least. There is no description for the level of hurt that I, and the rest of the family, is feeling. There is no description for what is going on in my mind on the daily. There is no way to express the intense emotions that I am feeling as we approach his birthday.
I know that he is hurting. I know that hurting people hurt people. I know all of that crap. Knowing that doesn’t lessen the pain. It doesn’t make it easier. My heart longs to hear from him. My heart longs for him to return to the family. My heart longs for the moment that he returns to Christ. I can’t wait for him to finish writing this part of his testimony. My prayer is that we will hear from him, that he will come back to the family, and that he will return to Christ in my lifetime.
So, if you are reading this blog and feel so led, please pray for me and my family. Please pray for him.
Being a pastor’s family is tough. Satan likes to attack us. He likes to hit us where it hurts the most. We can’t make it without prayer. We know that the Lord hears our cries and knows our hearts. He knows what we need and when we need it.
If you are a congregant in a church, pray for your pastor and his family. They need it. For those who are already praying, don’t stop.
Not Your Typical Pastors Wife 