Now and Then

A year ago, I sat with my mom and her husband, Kel, in their home in Aptos, California. She had just been diagnosed with massive lung cancer, and a brain tumor. They were drinking wine, as they had just come back from the doctor with the official diagnosis. I had driven up from Los Angeles, "to visit a former intern." (So, I fibbed a little. I was there to see mom, but she would not have been happy that I drove "all that way" just to see her.)

My mom had had a rough few years. She had undergone surgery on 9/10/01 to increase blood flow to her legs. On 9/11/01, she had gone back into surgery to amputate her left leg, which did not respond to the original surgery. I was driving north from Los Angeles, (a familiar trip), when I heard about the planes crashing into the Twin Towers. I have multiple reasons to remember 9/11.

My mom recovered, and was walking and driving again. She was playing bridge with her beloved bridge club. She and Kel took a cruise together. Everything was looking up. And then this.

While sitting with mom and Kel, Kel related this anecdote to me. He said, "You know, these past two and a half years have been the worst of our life together. But they have also been the best." Taken aback by the musings of an unsentimental man, I asked the natural, "What do you mean?" Kel replied, "Before your mother's surgery, we would be at opposite ends of the house. I'd be in my office diddling with financial things, your mother would be at her computer or in the garden in in the kitchen. Since your mother's surgery, I we have spent a lot of time together, and we have had to talk. And we have grown closer, and it has been beautiful."

Kel had insisted that my mom recover at home. So after some transitional care, she came home. Around the house, Kel took out bathroom doors, and made a ramp for my mom. He also learned to change her bandages, give her a bath or shower, change her clothes, get her downstairs into the car to go to the doctor, get her up out of bed and to the bathroom, etc. He had become a servant. And he had discovered the joys of being a servant. And my admiration and respect for him grew as I watched him do this for my mom.

Well, several weeks later, she complained of massive stomach pains. Admitted to the hospital, it was determined that she had a "leak" in her abdominal cavity. The doctors were unsure where it was coming from. Exploratory surgery was ruled out of the question. The surgery itself might kill her. And then if she recovered, she would be faced with inoperable lung cancer and a brain tumor. So, my dear mom, only 72, was put on a pain relief protocol. She was given morphine, and waited to die.

She eventually passed away on March 7th. My brother, Dave, and I had been with her most of the previous week. We were expecting her to go at any minute. But she lingered. She drifted in and out of sleep. We told stories. We laughed. We shed a tear or two. We watched. We prayed. I left for Los Angeles on a Thursday. Mom died on Sunday. The bravest woman I have ever known.

I mention that now, since it is an anniversary of sorts. She was diagnosed a year ago. I also mention it because I am facing more unknown. I have resigned from my pastoral position, and Sunday is my last Sunday at Faith United Presbyterian Church in Los Angeles. I have been at Faith United for ten years, part-time. That is, I was paid part-time. There is no such thing as part-time pastoral work!

Why am I resigning? Two reasons, really. The first is for the benefit of the church. I have helped the church deal with a great many issues. But I am unable to take them to the next step in their growth. Some look at Faith United and say, "Why bother? Close it down." But I remain hopeful and confident that this once 2000-member congregation can again flourish in its witness for Jesus Christ. But I will not be there for the turnaround. The congregation needs new vision, new energy, and a new voice. While I love the people at Faith United, I must leave.

The second reason is personal. I am tired. Some might say I am burned out. And perhaps I am. I have enjoyed being the pastor at Faith United, but the tasks have consumed me. Preaching has been a joy. Relating to people has been wonderful. But the administrative load has taken a toll. We completed, in late 2002, a $750,000 seismic retrofit of the building, ordered by the City of Los Angeles, paid for by us. (Loans, mostly!) And there are several congregations renting space from us, and several neighborhood groups. So there are constant demands for plumbing and electrical repairs.

I must confess that I have liked administration more than I had feared. My only worry in seminary was whether I could do the administration. It appears that I can. The down side is that I have not taken very good care of myself. I have not been in a pastoral accountability group, though weekly praying with pastors Manny and Steve has helped. My sermons have been directed and what the Lord might be saying to the congregation, while not listening very closely to what the Lord is saying to me. And so, I have cut myself off from the Vine more than I would care to admit.

And I think the death of my mom has raised issues I was already struggling with. I am not getting any younger. I am not satisfied with this part of my life. I am seeing very little fruit from my labors. And so, I am resigning to do some self-care. Doing some reading, getting some counseling, perhaps taking a class or two, working on the house, and getting some things done that I have been too busy to do. I have not been living a balanced life, and I have lost myself in the process. Thank God for a loving family, who have put up with my quirks and failings.

I am not sure of the outcome of all this. I am not leaving directly to another church. We'd like to stay in South Pasadena. Our house is here. The kids' school is here. This is home. Like Abraham, I am called to trust God for the future. "Go to a land that I will show you," the Lord tells Abraham. (Then known as Abram.)

I am not sure how Abraham heard that word, but he started walking. Me? I like to know where I am going, the rest stops along the way, what restaurants to eat in, everything! Ah, the life of faith is full of adventure, but trusting God comes hard. At least for me.

So, the church is planning a potluck (what else?) for me on Sunday. I cannot see past Sunday, really. My office books are packed away, awaiting transportation home. There are administrative details to work out yet at church. There are people to say goodbye to. And then? We will see! I will certainly try to keep the blog up to date on the close of this chapter, and the opening of the new chapter.

So, a year ago, one life was ending. Now, a chapter in a career is ending. I learned much from my mom. Among the pertinent lessons: be grateful for the time you have, and just keep plugging away. Good things will happen.

I miss you, mom. And I will miss the people of Faith United. But I embrace the opportunities ahead.