Day 31 and the end of the first month of my daily blog. A day with hard emotions.
I was called to the bed side of a dear friend who was breathing his last few breathes.
Enter Gilbert the Pastor. Here is why I'm such a lousy pastor - I forgot to read the passage of the Bible I had chosen; forgot to pray with the family; and the first words I said as I walked into the quiet, anxious ICU room was "what's the old goat done now!"
The other pastors on our church staff would be so good at this kind of visit. Ann would know exactly how to pray and would visit every family member bringing comfort and putting a caring arm around them. Lonney would read a suitable Psalm and pray with the family around the bed with his calming, pastoral voice. But me - despite going to seminary twice - I miss these expected pastor actions.
But I did go. I went because Dale is my friend, a friend who God allowed me to play a small part in helping him find Jesus.
Dale is nothing like me - 65 years old, rode horses, a paid up member of the NRA, a legendary sheriff's posse, a dedicated Republican, never travelled outside of the USA, viewed anything foreign as suspicious ...and so the list could go on.
But alongside the Jesus that we shared, we shared the belief that the church must change for the sake of reaching more and more people.
I'm sure Dale hated our church music and a whole lot of other things that wouldn't appeal to his NRA conservatism - but my friend never complained, or even hinted that he didn't like the new things. Rather, over an enchilada style burrito we talked about life, politics and the church being alive to a new generation.
It was a strange friendship. I'm sure staff at our local Mexican restaurant called Daniel's must have wondered who this old goat was with Gilbert.
And because of all this, and because of all our history - I'm sure Dale would have expected me to walk in calling him an old goat and forgetting to do what most pastors do ......in one way because that's what he always liked - "do it differently Gilbert, keep us surprised."
Now that kind of pastor I can be and that was the kind of friend Dale was.
Who would have thought my red blooded, gun loving, 'Obama and the Democrats are everything that are wrong with this nation', duck hunting, big truck driving friend would have had me as his favorite pastor.
Who would have thought I'd have become a normal pastor?
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1 comment:
As I had breakfast this morning it with the son of the old goat, it was good to hear that you were at the families side when he passed. it was also good to know that Dale was healed now...it may not comfort his son now, but I pray that someday it will
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