"He comforts us so that we’re able to help others when
needed." ~ 2 Corinthians 1:4
It was her last of several visits
today. She rapped softly on the oak
door, tucking her personal worries and problems to the back of her mind. It’s time for comforting words and
compassionate presence. She’d been doing
this for two decades and knew scripture by heart, yet clamped to her chest she carried
a leather bound Bible. Pastor Carrie knew
that just the sight of it brought comfort in times of pain.
The door opens and she’s mindful to project warmth and
genuine caring. This is why she came to
this profession, this calling - to bring God’s Word to those in need.
Her visit brought needed relief to a woman grieving the
death of a stillborn child. Mission accomplished. Her Savior’s grace brought temporary joy to
a personal life (Carrie’s) laden with a sadness forever etched just below her
consciousness.
Not until her young daughter died in a horrifying car
accident, one that could have avoided had she not been in such a hurry, did she
truly understand grief’s intensity - piercing, crushing, and enduring.
The sudden death of a child disrupts the natural order of
life. She’d forever remember that day
as the one in which her life froze. Her
death marked the loss of innocence, the future, of hopes and dreams.
Life wouldn’t be the same … ever! Insomnia haunted her nights; fatigue ruled her
days. She was inescapably gripped by a
whirlpool of pain – swift, relentless, dark.
Exhausted and emotionally shattered, Carrie tumbled into bed
and surrendered to sleep this night. As
her brain slowly let go, she entered the surreal universe where dreams soothed
and balanced one’s soul.
At first a lazy fog hung in the air, obscuring her view of a
ghostly figure. As the mist cleared, a
small girl emerged. Chestnut brown hair
lay on her shoulders like a flowing waterfall, emerald eyes as bright as a
sunrise. Her smile was warm with a hint
of humility.
She stumbled forward, struggling with the weight of two
large water buckets - way too heavy for her small frame.
Something vaguely familiar about this child peaked Carrie’s
interest. She asked: “Sweetheart, what
are you carrying that’s so very heavy?”
The angelic figure replied in a soft, sweet voice: “Your
tears Mommy!”
Only after that dream did her heart begin to heal.
The spiritual battles and pressure your pastor faces are
unprecedented. We tend to believe their
theology prepared them to see the God’s glorious purposes and are thus immune
from the frailties of grief.
Untrue! Pastors
grieve just like every other human being and often, given the intensity of
their profession, more deeply. Strengthen
and encourage your pastor through prayer and thanksgiving.
Lord Jesus, Thank you for all pastors/priests
and the burden they carry for us. Grant
them the rest they need. Help me to
remember that I can help by volunteering my time and talents so that my pastor
doesn’t have to take on that task. Amen
