I went to go visit Margery in the hospital. Several years ago, going to see Margery was part of my weekly routine. I always went to her place her, even though… well…. I am a people person, and I really cannot name many people in any of the churches that I have served whom I did not like. I feel really bad admitting this about a a widow in her 80s, but I’ll do it. I will admit to you that I did not like Margery.

I tried, but every time I was around her, she was putting me down for something. I was spending too much money, and I didn’t take care of my daughter, and I was always wearing the wrong clothes.

To make matters even more difficult, the other members of our church listened to Margery and respected her deeply. They told me that she was so critical because I was a woman. She never wanted a woman pastor, and the fact that I was a young woman made it much worse. I had replaced a much older man, an interim who was well past retirement, and she resented the fact that I took away her dear friend.

But, you know, the thing about being a pastor, sometimes it doesn’t really matter if you like someone or not. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter if they like you. Sometimes you just need to be with them.

It was one of those mornings. I went to see Margery in the hospital, right after the doctor had visited her. He came to tell her that the cancer that they were hoping to contain had just spread all over her body, and many of her vital organs. She didn’t have much longer. She was going to die.

I was the first one to see her after she heard the news. So, I read the Psalms with her. We prayed together. When I said amen, Margery could barely talk, so she said, “Carol, come here. Come closer so I can tell you something.”

I sat on the edge of her bed and put my ear next to her mouth. Her voice suddenly came back strong as she said, “Couldn’t you have found some pearls to wear with that outfit? That sweater looks terrible on you. You know I hate it when you wear black. The neckline is so plain. Just get a drop pearl necklace, really. They don’t cost that much money.”

The next time I went to visit her, she was in a different hospital, telling me about a run-in that she had with her nurse. They fought, and she was replaying the abusive conversation with all of her intensity. And as I listened, something began to swell up inside of me. I told Margery that I needed to leave, and when I exited the room, I began to run. My head was tingling with heat, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital. When I broke out of the doors, I met the winter air with gratitude. Then I went into my car and breathed deeply.

I had always read that people had a fight or flight instinct, but I had never experienced it before that moment. 

I used to think that I was not a fearful person at all. In fact, I could not name one thing, situation, or person that I was afraid of. Yet, at that moment, I became afraid of an eighty-year-old woman who was dying of cancer.

Suddenly, I could identify so many things that I feared. I was anxious about the death of loved ones, especially the passing of my grandmother, who was sick at that time. I feared that I would have to make tough decisions about my father’s declining health, decisions that he would not agree with and fight against. And I realized that I had a whole variety of fears there all along. I just didn’t know what that particular sensation was, and I had no idea how to face them. I had assumed that having courage was the same thing as pretending like your fears don’t exist. 

Being a pastor can be intensely emotional at times. The vocation has a way of getting under your skin and calling up so many things you thought you would never have to face otherwise. I hope that in the new year, we might have the strength to keep facing the difficulties that might come our way. May we somehow find the courage.

 

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