The pastor at the church that I am technically a member at passed away last night. He was a man of great intelligence and integrity. He touched my life and profoundly affected it in ways I could never explain to him, even though I haven't regularly attended church in a decade. He is also the man that performed both of my wedding ceremonies. This is very important, and I will explain why.
One month to the day before I married Joe's father, I found out I was pregnant. The invitations were already sent, RSVP's already returning. I was embarrassed that not only had I been having pre-marital sex, everyone was going to know. I did not tell my pastor I was pregnant. I knew everyone would figure out I wasn't having a "honeymoon baby" since his arrival would only be 7 months after the wedding, but I was too mortified to tell anyone except my immediate family. The wedding happened and I went about being a pregnant new wife.
Flash forward to six months after the wedding: Joe's father turned out to have more skeletons in his closet than the average person. Debts, addictions, aliases, an ex-wife... Countless lies and pointing blame to anywhere but himself. His family refused to talk to me when I asked what they knew and hid from me. Mike pleaded for me not to leave him; he wanted to try counseling. I told him I WOULD NOT go to my pastor with this. I was too embarrassed to let him know of our problems. Well, Mike did exactly the opposite. He went to my pastor without me.
After Mike had visited, the reverend came to my house to speak with me. I was just hospitalized for pre-term labor and was on bed rest. He said quietly "Carrie, I have known you for most of your life. What Mike told me is not you and is not true. He has problems that you cannot deal with. You need to file for divorce. You and your young baby do not need him in your lives."
I was shocked. Here I was, a month from giving birth, six months after a wedding, being told by the very pastor that performed the ceremony that I needed to get a divorce. That night I visited with my grandparents. Granny asked me if the reverend had come to see me. I told her he had. Grampa, who was a man of few words, asked what he had to say. I told them. Grampa's response was "And did you hear him?" Again I was shocked. How could I do that?
The next day what the pastor and Grampa had said kept running through my head. I realized that if the pastor felt the need to tell me I needed to file for divorce, I should do it. He, of all people, would not take divorce lightly. I made an appointment with an attorney and filed that week.
After Joe was born, the reverend and his wife were very supportive of me. Through baptism without a father, a diagnosis of autism, struggling to become a single mom, they were always kind. I cannot say the same about fellow parishioners, however, and I felt extremely uncomfortable in church. I was having a difficult time reconciling getting pregnant before marriage, being now divorced, being a single parent, and having a kid with problems. The whispers and looks from others were more than I could bear. I felt like a failure, like I was unworthy to be in a church. I quit going. The pastor did not quit on me, though. He always kept up with where I was and how I was doing. Joe went to Bible School each summer. Each summer the reverend would comment on how intelligent Joe was. Throughout the year he would ask Granny about Joe and often told her how neat of a little kid Joe was. Joe thought the world of him. He cried today when I told him the pastor had passed. He said "I am sad that he is gone and I will miss him. The good thing, though, is he is seeing all the things he believed in and is getting to be in Heaven where he belongs. He dedicated his life to making sure people like us get there too, you know." Such wise words from such a little person.
When Charlie and I decided to get married, I was hesitant to have the reverend marry us. Would it be like deja vu for me? Would he even be willing to do it? I should not have questioned anything. He welcomed us with open arms and was very supportive of our marriage. I think now he was so supportive BECAUSE of what I went through before. He knew things were very different this time. It has occurred to me that if he hadn't said a very difficult thing to say, I wouldn't have the happiness I have today.
I never got to tell him how profoundly he affected my life. I have thought about it often, and wished I could tell him, but I'm not a talker like that. I can write, and I should have written before now. I just hope that he knew what was in my heart and can see these words now and knows that he made a very, very big and positive difference in my life.
