My grandmother’s funeral was a beautiful thing. That may sound like a strange thing to say, but it’s true. It was a beautiful celebration of her life. It was just what she would’ve wanted.
We played “Only Jesus” by Casting Crowns as the family came in. When I told my family about driving to my grandmother’s house the morning she passed away, and that song playing on the radio, we all agreed that it was perfect. I think that song will always hold a special place in my heart.
For the first part, the entire family stood together on the church stage and we sang all her favorite songs.
We recreated the “celebrations” she loved so much while she was sick. Each family member had a part. We each chose either a song that she loved or a song that she had written to sing. It was a very special time for the family… to stand on the stage where she played bass every week with the church band… and they even placed an empty chair on the stage to symbolize her absence. It was incredibly touching.
Her pastor knew her well, and he was able to eloquently speak of her life… how much she loved Jesus and her family and how she faithfully served in the church. She had been a part of the church since its beginning.
My daddy talked my grandmother into recording a song a few years earlier. Grandmother was a songwriter. She poetically formed beautiful thoughts into melodic tunes. It was her hobby, but she was extremely successful in doing it. This song was like her last gift to the family.
We played the song at the very end of the service. The name of this song was “I Sing for My Children.” Most of the family had never heard it. It was such a special gift from my grandmother to the family and such a thoughtful thing for my daddy to do. It was just perfect.
But, before the funeral service that day, my parents’ church served us a meal.
We invited our pastor and his family to eat with us. We wanted them to be there. It was a comfort to have people we knew and loved be with us; after a week of family drama and grief that comes with a loved one passing away, we craved some normalcy. So he and his family sat with us.
During the meal, he chose to discuss all the things we needed to do at church the next day… there was a mission trip meeting that the kids would need to attend for the mission trip the next June, there were our regular Sunday morning duties and there was also a business meeting where I would need to make a report. These things were literally all he talked about. I didn’t invite him to come to this meal for this reason… I needed a pastor and a friend. Yet, it seemed that even in this environment, all he could think about or talk about was what work I needed to do and how my kids didn’t need to miss the meeting. My head was spinning.
I’m going to keep this clean, but I’ll just tell you that my thoughts at that moment included many words, none of which are appropriate for here.
I had just endured hell week. My grandmother died, my family fought, stress was immeasurable, I was exhausted, I was emotional, I was spent, not to mention we were less than an hour away from my grandmother’s funeral … and you want to talk about what I need to do at church the following day? Let’s think about this for a moment. This man was my friend, pastor, and boss… but the only thing he was at that moment was my boss, and I needed a friend and a pastor.
Do they teach empathy or compassion in Seminary?
When do “staff” members get to be pastored? When does that kick in?
Is it when they have surgery? Obviously not.
Is it when they are so exhausted that they tell you they are burning out and need a break? Obviously not.
Is it when they have confided in you over and over that the relationship with your grandmother is so strained, and now that she’s dying, you are emotionally distraught? Obviously not.
Is it during the week your grandmother died? Do you offer to step in and help with things to take some stress off? Obviously not.
Is it at your grandmother’s funeral? Obviously not.
This man had one thing on his mind. His church, how the church perceived him, (especially the members with money), how good other people could make him look, and his paycheck. Period.
He couldn’t see my pain; he couldn’t see my feelings at all, or maybe he could and he just didn’t care.
I wanted to attend church the next day so badly. I wanted to see my friends, I wanted to cry and let them hug me, and I wanted to be surrounded by these people who loved me. But if I went to church that morning, I would be expected to return for a business meeting Sunday night to make my report… because it was already printed in the program… it would make the pastor look bad if I didn’t. So, because I knew I couldn’t do that, I also knew that I couldn’t go to church.
When my grandmother’s funeral service was over that day, the pastor said he had never attended a funeral like that one. And as he smirked and laughed, he said he wondered if we were going to have an intermission after the first part and serve refreshments.
It was rude. It wasn’t funny.
It was late evening before we made it home from the cemetery. I just needed rest.
My husband told me it was probably best for me to stay home from church so I could get the rest I needed. If I didn’t go that morning, maybe the pastor would realize that I was too tired to go that night to make a report during the business meeting.
.
My kids and my husband went to church that morning. They all had responsibilities that day. I had a headache so it gave me the perfect excuse. I stayed home, and mourned alone instead of surrounded by my church family.
My husband met the pastor in the hall that morning. He asked where I was. My husband told him I was home with a headache. The pastor then asked if I would be coming that night to make the report.
My husband was not happy. He told the pastor there was no way I would be able to do that. I wasn’t in the right mindset or in an emotionally stable enough place to make a report. The pastor wasn’t understanding at all.
Let me stop here and explain these reports. When this new pastor came, he wanted each ministry to occasionally report to the church about all the things we had going on, how things were going, and our future plans. This “report” was less than five minutes and was presented to less than 50 people who attended business meetings. I WOULDN’T BE MISSED. THIS WASN’T A BIG DEAL. In fact, I think the church members would’ve wondered why I was there the day after my grandmother’s funeral to make a silly report.
This wasn’t the first report I had been forced to come in to make. The pastor had also done this the night before we left for camp.
It was the one time I allowed my husband to ask for something for me. I never wanted to appear weak to the pastor, so I handled everything work-related myself. I remember it clearly. We were leaving for camp the very next morning. I had been at the church every night for VBS the week before and just needed some time with my family. My husband asked me if I could just stay home that night. I explained to him that I was expected to be at church to make a report. He told me to just stay home anyway because we hadn’t had any time together as a family and I was leaving again the next day. I told him I would stay home if he would ask the pastor if it was ok. … nope, when my husband requested that I get to stay home that night, the pastor said the report was already printed. So I had to come to make it.
Are you seeing the trend… zero compassion, zero ideas about what other people need, zero empathy, zero ability to see anyone’s needs but his own.
This was getting harder and harder. The friendship and the pastor/boss lines were becoming more blurred by the day.
I couldn’t easily separate the hurt I felt. Was this man a bad boss, a bad pastor, a bad friend, or was he all three?
I stayed home that Sunday, knowing that the pastor wasn’t happy about it, but knowing that I had to take care of myself.
I showed up for the staff meeting the following day at 9 a.m.
I sat down, and the pastor handed everyone their notes for the day. The following was what I found at the very top of the page.
Leadership Development: Don’t get lazy being a leader. More is expected of you than the average church member.
I think my brain exploded.
I felt my blood pressure rise.
I snapped a picture of the staff notes to send to my husband.
He couldn’t believe it either.
Did he say that I had become lazy by not coming to make a report? Was he addressing this with me in front of the entire staff?
During the staff meeting, my counselor called to check on me. I stepped out of the meeting to take his call. He couldn’t believe it when I told him I was at work. Why wasn’t I home resting and recuperating from the previous week? Had I not been offered any time off? Was it necessary for me to be there that day?
I told him I was already in trouble for not being there the night before and didn’t even consider not showing up for the staff meeting.
Then I told him about the Leadership Development comment on our notes for the day.
He said I needed to address it head-on; ask the questions, and get the answers.
This was going to be a stressful day.
I want to say right here that even though I had been struggling to keep my head above water, and even though I had been out of the office some for my grandmother, my work hadn’t missed a beat. I never slacked off, I never left anything undone. Technically I could work from home if I needed to, and I did. I did something work-related every single day of the week. It wasn’t the work the pastor was concerned about, it was the optics of me not being present, it was about what it looked like. I wasn’t asking for “time-off” to do nothing at all, just for a little grace…but there was none.
I stepped back into the staff meeting after talking to my counselor on September 30, 2019. We still had things to go over.
I listened to the pastor explain how important it was for us as staff members to do more than the regular person. He framed it to pertain to the entire staff, no one in particular. I wasn’t buying it.
There were a few other things on the list that day…
- We had to figure out an alternative to the fall fest… I think I will just cover that whole thing in its own post.
- I would plan training for all those involved in the fall fest alternative for October 20.
- We were informed that the church would vote to hire a new permanent part-time music minister. That’s also too much to add to this. It needs its own post.
There wasn’t any time during the meeting for me to talk to the pastor about the Leadership Development section. When our meeting was over, it was lunchtime. Everyone left.
I was leaving after lunch to see a movie with my daughter, my mom, and my mother-in-law. I wouldn’t be back after lunch because I had more than a full workday that coming Wednesday.
I never had a chance to talk to the pastor in private before I left.
When I got to the movie, I was ready to scream. I needed to address this issue.
During the movie, I just decided to text him. It wasn’t my preferred method of communication to deal with an issue, but it was eating me alive, and I needed to know. I still have copies of those text messages, but I’ll just summarize them quickly.
I asked him what exactly he was addressing in the Leadership Development section that morning. I specifically asked him if it was about me missing the business meeting the night before. He proceeded to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. Instead, it was directed at the youth pastor and the secretary.
They evidently had not attended a Sunday evening service while he was away a couple of weeks before (I was babysitting his kids and his dog during this time), and there was no “staff” present for the visiting speaker and no one to lock up. It looked terrible, he said.
Ok, did I believe this?
No, not entirely. If the pastor had an issue with two staff members who were in the office every day of the week, why did he bring it up when I was the only extra one there. And, if a boss has an issue with a staff member, why don’t you just deal with it directly? Why are you vague? Why do you type it out and print it in the staff notes? It didn’t make any sense.
He said through text message that if he had an issue with me, he hoped I knew we were close enough friends that he would just tell me.
Call me cynical. I don’t care. After everything that had happened up until this point, I was struggling to believe him.
My daughter rode home from the movie that night with my mom, so I took the chance to call him on the phone.
This issue didn’t feel resolved, and I needed it to be.
I just asked him again, “if this was really directed only to the other two people on staff, why did you type this up for all three of us? Why didn’t you deal with it privately? Then I asked him if he was mad I didn’t come to the business meeting to make my report.”
Prepare yourselves… and by this time, my filter was gone.
He wasn’t mad, he said… he was disappointed. He was disappointed because it was important for me to fulfill my duties, and I didn’t. It was printed in the business meeting agenda program, and then I wasn’t there to do it… are you ready for it… it made him look bad.
I’m sorry… I can’t hold this one back… I lost my shit!
I said, “are you kidding me? You expected me to return to service the night after my grandmother’s funeral to make a 5-minute report that nobody cared about? A report that I didn’t even have the mental or emotional capacity to prepare, much less speak to a group of people and you’re upset because it made you look bad? You were worried about yourself? You were disappointed?”
This was more than I could take.
I continued and said, “I’m just going, to be frank; I didn’t need your disappointment; I needed your understanding. I needed a friend. I needed a pastor. I needed a boss to realize my exhaustion level. I needed you to tell me to stay home, to rest. I needed you to tell me I didn’t have to come to work today. That’s what I needed, yet what you offered was ‘disappointment’, and I don’t even know what to do with that”.
His response… sometimes I can be selfish, and I’m sorry.
At that moment, the pastor’s half-hearted apology was enough for me. His willingness to realize his selfishness, apologize, and give me permission to point it out… gave me some hope. But unfortunately, it was false hope and too little too late.
I know the past few posts have seemed angry, because they are. This whole section of time was hard. I have never felt like I did during that time. I was struggling with inner turmoil, I was depressed, I was sick and I was confused. I wasn’t able to acknowledge the depression and the hurt at the time, because I didn’t recognize them for what they were, I just thought I needed to work harder, pray harder… And I realized that was also the only way to make the pastor happy… slowing down wasn’t an option. My relationship with God at this point was me begging Him to fix me, to restore me, to give me my energy and excitement back. But, I was even angry with God, and at the time I don’t even think I noticed.
Until Next Time,
Whitney