Prior to that time everything was set. My ministry in Sandpoint had been affirmed by our congregation council. After 13 years, they made it clear that they wanted me to remain till I retired, and to that end offered me the opportunity to buy my own home in Sandpoint. I had shared that my desire was to continue serving First Lutheran till I retired, and then, as Pastor Emeritus, serve in supportive role to the new pastor. Clarity. The best laid plans of mice and men.
It didn't work out that way.
The decision to allow me to buy my own house resulted in a backlash from a segment of the congregation. They held a closed door meeting and formulated a letter with certain demands, and the threat to terminate my call. Upon reading that letter, I sought solace in a bottle of Scotch coupled in the end with my mixing my dosage of Ativan with the Scotch in a cocktail that nearly killed me. The next day, at the urging of my family, my friends, and my Bishop I entered the hospital, in my mind to treat my depression. Upon entering the hospital I got wind of another agenda. "You're headed to chemical dependency treatment." And the hardest words I have ever heard: "Dave, you are an alcoholic."
I was losing everything.
First, I had to relinquish 'control' of the congregation and go on a medical leave for treatment. Then, after having tried to return to work, unsuccessfully, I had to go on long term disability. Disability benefits were only 2/3 of my prior compensation, yet our mortgage remained at 100%. Then, came resignation from my call. For a time the severance package which paid out accumulated vacation time made up the difference, but then, that also came to an end. More recently, my disability benefits were terminated and with that, our medical insurance. The business I had started, also failed to produce any livable income. At every crossroads along the way, at every twist and turn in the road, with each additional loss, I expected and feared the worst. Top on the list of fears was that we would lose the house.
Thinking back on all of this is depressing.
Except for the miracle. It is remarkable, really. And yes, I consider it a miracle of God's grace.
After sustaining all of these losses, we are better off financially than we ever have been.
Many things have contributed to that, and yes, there has had to be some belt tightening along the way. But the bottom line is that instead of losing everything, as feared, we are in better shape than we have ever been. In addition, facing the realities of my alcoholism and being bipolar has left me, today, probably healthier than I have been in a long time.
Never have the words of Jeremiah seemed so true: "For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." Every time a door closed, another one opened.
Certainty has been replaced by faith. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. None of us actually does. But everyday I learn to trust a little more that God's hand is leading us, his love supporting us. These are the words of the "Holden Prayer". I am preaching in Coeur d'Alene this morning and will conclude my sermon with that prayer. I share it with you as well.
"O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we
cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage,
not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love
supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen."
No comments:
Post a Comment