Four Months, Seven Days

Last updated on: August 24, 2013 at 3:52 pm by Christy Thomas

Four Months, Seven Days 2013-08-24T15:52:23-05:00 Christy Thomas

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I thought that the first Sunday after the congregation learned about my retirement would be the hardest. Wrong. Second Sunday worse. People I hadn’t seen the first Sunday coming up to me and reminding me again how much I will miss them. And then there is Addie.

Addie, daughter of one of the faithful families in our congregation. Addie, young, innocent, loving. Addie–she represents to me so much of this congregation. Sunday, after her dad and I had exchanged a long, tearful look, she came back in from the parking lot and wrapped her arms around me. “I love you so much. You can’t leave.”

Addie: a year ago, after I had undergone a surgery, she and her mother came to the house to bring some food. Addie sat down on the couch with me, looked me closely in the eyes, then reached over and put a gentle hand on my cheek and said, “Be well, Pastor Christy.”

Oh dear–yes, the second Sunday was worse.

And then I begin thinking, “what sort of church do I want to leave for the person who will be appointed after me?”

Well, a clean, perfectly run, ministry-rich, thriving, financially abundant, full of grace and redemption, orderly place. I think I’m going to leave “ministry-rich” and “full of grace and redemption” ok, but the rest of it? Dream on. It’s full of change, chaos, questions, undone tasks, people in various stages of maturity, leadership in flux, stretched, stretched, stretched . . . but also thriving. Bursting with life. And bursting with never-ending challenges. Anyone coming after me who thinks, “This will be a piece of cake” is in for a rude awakening.

After Worship and then a Trustees meeting last Sunday (where I am imploring: “remember, it is your job to make sure the building is given a thorough scrub-down a couple of times a year, not mine to make this happen!”), I was treated to a musical production of my all time favorite movie, The Color Purple, at the Denton Community Theater.

The spectacular production was as much worship service as theatre. The book and movie tell the powerful story of redemption given to the most unlikely of people by the most unlikely of people.

The musical ended with a powerfully sung “Amen” in multi-part harmony. It was the last performance. The actors had tears streaming down their faces. And did I and the friend who had treated me for the afternoon.

How mysteriously God works. For that story, the freedom and answer to heartfelt prayers on the part of Celie, the downtrodden, heartbroken and mistreated narrator, comes from, of all people, Shug. Shug is Celie’s abusive husband’s lover and the preacher’s daughter, utterly disowned by said preacher because of her wanton ways.

Shug, overly sensuous, has no conventional moral code driving her behavior. She flits from lover to lover, often drunk and sometimes unkind, and nonetheless shows Celie the only love she has ever experienced except from her sister Nettie. Moreover, Shug crossed moral boundaries in opening up this world of love for Celie.

And yet . . . new life and new hope came from Shug’s promiscuous love. I remember a number of years ago writing a newspaper column on God’s promiscuous love. Think I got a lot of criticism on that one. But God surely does spread love around indiscriminately.

Back to retirement. Last week, I wrote about a couple of my big concerns: an apartment and a car. Tuesday afternoon, I thought, “I’ve got to start looking for a place to live.” By Wednesday, I had found it, just the location I wanted right in downtown Denton. Spending so much time in NYC and in London has given me a taste for urban living, and the Square in Downtown Denton is simply wonderful.

I ended up getting a much larger place than I had planned (and at a higher cost, of course) but it was the only one available when I needed it. The other occupants of the building are primarily older professionals. As the owner and I talked on the phone, it became clear to both of us that I would be a good fit and he was offering a great place to live. It also means I don’t have to downsize nearly so dramatically, and I can see how this will work out wonderfully.

As for the car . . . it is very possible that by Monday I will own an older, low mileage, well-maintained reputable vehicle that really was driven only to church or the beauty shop by a little old lady. If my mechanic signs off on it, I will buy it. All this came about through a friend who simply wanted to be a blessing to me and called checking on me and heard about the car need. Then she made an unexpected connection and . . . well, God’s grace does appear in the most mysterious of ways.

I am grateful. I still often awaken thinking, “What HAVE I done?” by making this decision, but as the days pass, I continue to sense the gentle leading of God’s Spirit into this unexpected new adventure.

And I still worry about the ten trillion things I will have left undone at the church!

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