One of the downsides of being a pastor’s family is that when someone knocks on your door at 9:30 at night, you know the news isn’t going to be good. And it wasn’t. We have a dear lady in our church who has really struggled with her health since we’ve known her. She’s just a precious woman. My husband, who hates doing visitation, loves to go visit with Sally. She’s just a neat lady.
We found out this morning that she had been taken to the hospital by ambulance and Chip went up to see her this afternoon (we had to host a sectional meeting this morning or he’d have gone earlier). He said she wasn’t doing well, but she’s been in situations like this before so you never know what might come of it. She’s only in her 50’s and is just too young to have to deal with this kind of stuff.
Anyhoo, at 9:30 a dear lady/friend from the church came and knocked on the door to tell us that the husband was trying to reach us (why he didn’t call the church phone or Chip’s cell we don’t know) and they were saying Sally might not make it through the night. *sigh* I hate this part of ministry. I hate being emotionally involved with people that I have to sit back and watch struggle like this. I love Sally, and darn it, I’m not ready to let go! I want her restored to health. I want to see her back in her pew at church. I want to see her quilting and crafting with the ladies on Friday afternoons. I want to see her driving around in her sleek little yellow convertible. I want to hear her stories. I’m angry tonight. I’m angry that we live in such a temporal world and our bodies are so fragile. I’m angry with myself for not going to visit more.
But my anger won’t do any good. So I’m sitting here praying and waiting to hear from my husband, nervous of what the phone call will bring. Sometimes I just really *hate* being in the minsitry!