Have you ever been in a situation and didn’t realize what was happening, then you look back at it a few days, months, or years later, and you’re like, what the heck was that?
That’s the way the whole year of 2019 was for me. I couldn’t figure out why I felt the way I did but looking back, it all makes sense.
One thing that happened in September of 2019 still blows my mind.
After my “month” off, I returned to a full work schedule. AWANA had started back up on Wednesday nights, the Sunday School classes were promoted, the raises had been given… time for the start of a new church year.
My first big event of the new church year would be See You at the Pole. This was special for the elementary kids. If you aren’t familiar with See You at the Pole, it’s a national program where students around the country lead a special morning of prayer. The students gather at the flagpole at their school, read scripture, lead prayer and sometimes sing a song or two. It’s a time for kids to share their faith with the community and school; the time that I had set aside for this very thing in my goals the previous year.
This was something the high school kids had done for several years, but I decided early in my ministry that this would be something good for the elementary kids to do as well.
As I’ve said, you can tell a group of teenagers what is expected of them, ask them to plan it, execute it, and walk away.
Kids aren’t the same. They have leadership abilities, but you must help them along. It’s fun and rewarding, but it’s a lot of work.
Anything you do with kids just takes time, planning, and organization.
See You at the Pole was my main focus in September. I met with the kids each Wednesday night and let them help plan things. I wrote out the scriptures we chose, made a script, decided on some songs, contacted other churches asking them to participate with us, ordered shirts…etc. It was somewhat time-consuming but very much worth the time and effort.
On its own, it would have been pretty simple to plan. But remember that all of these big events were done in conjunction with everyday church work… which also wouldn’t be a big deal if I had been a full-time employee, but again, I wasn’t.
September of 2019 was also when my grandmother began to rapidly deteriorate. I spent every possible moment with her.
I was in the office one day when I got a call to rush home because she wasn’t going to make it much longer…She rallied.
I was at a ballgame one Friday night, and they called again, saying she was barely holding on… I rushed home… She rallied.
By Saturday of that week, I was terrified to leave her side.
Sunday, September 22, 2019.
I spent this day by my grandmother’s side. She was pretty much unresponsive by this point. Her life’s end was near, and I felt every possible emotion. I was feeling guilt, confusion, disappointment, anger, and sadness… it was 41 years of my life with my grandmother all flooding back.
Our relationship had been so up and down all my life, and here we were at the end, and she needed me, she wanted me, she asked for me… it was a lot to process.
But this was a Sunday; according to the pastor, I probably should’ve been in church. I didn’t care. I was where I needed to be.
The family dynamic was also strained. Aunts, uncles, cousins… all the years of baggage… it was stressful. And not only was it hard for me, but it was also doubly hard for my parents. So I decided that I would be there for them through this in the best way possible.
I received a call in the middle of the night. She wasn’t going to make it. This time it was for real. I threw on some clothes, jumped in my car, and raced to her house just up the road.
As I was driving down my driveway, the song playing on the radio was “Only Jesus” by Casting Crowns.
And I, I don’t want to leave a legacy, I don’t care if they remember me… Only Jesus
And I, I’ve only got one life to live, I’ll let every second point to Him… Only Jesus
All the kingdoms built, all trophies won
Will crumble into dust when it’s said and done
‘Cause all that really mattered
Did I live the truth to the ones I love?
Was my life the proof that there is only One
Whose name will last forever?
And I, I don’t want to leave a legacy, I don’t care if they remember me… Only Jesus
And I, I’ve only got one life to live, I’ll let every second point to Him… Only Jesus
How fitting that this would be the song on my radio. My grandmother had lived her life for Jesus. He was her constant, He was her friend, she knew Him when she forgot everything else… the song couldn’t have been more perfect. I cried all the way to her house.
My grandmother passed away at sunrise on Monday, September 23, 2019. I was holding her hand. She fought hard; she was holding on as long as she could. It was hard to watch.
We stood around her bedside and sang as she took her last breaths. Precious memories indeed, but painful nonetheless.
I got back to my house that morning around 8 o’clock. I told the pastor I wouldn’t be in the office that day.
I started making phone calls and sending text messages to people who wanted to know that she had passed away. I received many kind messages from the people at Tree Town. The deacons contacted me with their condolences as well as many other people. I felt very loved. I read all of the messages and responded, then I tried to get a little rest.
We were supposed to meet as a family at the funeral home that day 2. The funeral home was also a stressful time. The family issues were only magnified during this time of loss. Things were hitting a new level.
I can’t explain in words the level of exhaustion I was feeling, the sense of responsibility I felt, and the emotional roller coaster I was on.
The family decided to have Grandmother’s funeral Saturday, September 28, 2019. This gave us an entire week to prepare, and there was much to do.
Do you know what else there was to do that week?
See You at the Pole.
On Wednesday morning, September 25, 6:00 a.m., running on an empty tank, I showed up at the church to get my supplies for See You at the Pole. I arrived a little later at the school, got the kids together, went over all the stuff they needed, organized everything else, ensured the whole thing went off without a hitch, cleaned up, and headed back to the church to drop off my supplies. My husband and kids were with me that day. They had been a huge help. The kids waited in the car while we dropped off the supplies at the church. We had errands to run that afternoon so we were in a bit of a hurry to get going.
The pastor (who did not attend See You at the Pole or offer to help) called my husband and me into his office, and this is where things get really weird…
He told us to close the door.
We did.
We sat down. The pastor said Whitney, I have something for you. I worked really hard to get it. I had to pull some strings and no one knows anything about it; you can’t tell anyone; the secretary has been sworn to secrecy as well; this never leaves this room….
By this point, I am utterly confused.
He reached into his desk, pulled out a folded check, and said… this is a gift from the church. It’s for 3 years of hard work; we’ll call it a thank you, and just so you know, it’s more than the difference between the 2 percent and 3 percent raise you should’ve received.
It’s my way of making things right, and no one can know.
First of all, I’m so confused by this top-secret gift from the church that no one but the pastor, the treasurer, and the secretary know about.
I’m concerned that something so underhanded has been done… like really concerned and confused…
I do what the pastor asks of me and open the check… and if I’m perfectly honest, I’m expecting see a few zeros…
I opened the check… It was written to me and the amount… Three hundred dollars… three hundred dollars for three years of underpaid, overworked time I had given this church, a three hundred dollar “thank you”..barely more than an extra paycheck… and one that I could NEVER mention. Someone please explain to me what kind of “gift” this is?
To say that I was offended would be a gross understatement.
The pastor reiterated before we left that this was something no one should ever know about. He seemed very pleased with himself.
I folded the check up, and we went to the car.
My husband asked how much it was written for. I told him, and he laughed and shook his head. He actually asked me why I hadn’t ripped it up and thrown it back at the pastor. He said that it felt like an insult.
My husband was just as shocked and confused as I was.
Three hundred dollars that I couldn’t tell anyone about.
How many times had something like this been done? How many times had the pastor decided to spend money that no one else knew about?
Could this be considered a misappropriation of funds? I knew we were allowed to give benevolence money without church approval up to a certain amount, but was I a benevolence project?
Did the church by-laws allow for this kind of thing? And if they did, why was it all so “top secret”?
If the church as a whole had been given the opportunity to give me a “gift,” would they have given me more or less than three hundred dollars?
My mind was reeling. I didn’t know if I should keep the secret or tell someone.
I didn’t know if what I had received was wrong or could get the pastor in trouble or me in trouble for accepting it.
In hindsight, I should’ve addressed all of this immediately. I should’ve called the appropriate people, I should’ve done all the things that I didn’t do…. I didn’t do them for a few reasons… to protect the pastor for one, also because I was still in shock, but probably mostly because I was in the midst of a life-changing time of grief… this was a terrible time to bring anything like this up… I was literally on my way to pick out my Grandmother’s clothes that she would be buried in…
But I will say this… that was the day that things really began to click. I knew… I knew I had to really start thinking long and hard about keeping this job.
I didn’t know where the money came from, I didn’t know how the pastor got it, I didn’t know if it was right or if it was wrong….
But I did know what it was… it wasn’t a thank you… it wasn’t to make things right… it wasn’t to make up the difference for the raise I should’ve received… it wasn’t any of those things…
Don’t forget, I told the pastor in his office only a few weeks before that although I would never sue my church, I had every shred of evidence to bring a case of sexual discrimination against them…
This was hush money…
Hush money.
From a church.
I bought cowboy boots.
And today, I broke the silence. Three hundred dollars isn’t enough to keep me quiet… or just maybe I can’t be “bought” at all.
Until Next Time,
Whitney