Storm Stories: Not Even Pastors Have It Made In The Shade

Today, we have an unexpected, though no less welcome, contributor to Storm Stories.  And while the two of us do have different perspectives on certain matters, I think of this StoryTeller as a Brother.  For that which divides us matters not so much as that which unites us.  And as I read his Storm Story, I realized that he deserves compassion–not judgment.  His Story makes me all the more grateful that the two of us have been able to learn from each other.  And that enables us to focus on things from Above, especially since…

LIFE IS NOT ALWAYS WHAT YOU EXPECT

by Pastor Ron

When Nor first asked me to participate in his Storm Stories series, I did not immediately reply for several reasons. The storms were too painful, embarrassing, and fresh; I just didn’t answer the call. After taking time to read several other stories along with their comments, it occurred to me storms are meant to be shared in the hope someone will be ministered to by God’s amazing grace and mercy. With that in mind, I humbly offer the following story.

God graciously saved my soul on Easter Sunday morning, April 10, 1977 at a non-denominational, charismatic, pentecostal, Bible-believing church in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. This most important event of my life happened while stationed at Tinker AFB. Shortly afterwards, I was transferred to Tyndall AFB, Panama City, Florida, where I met my wife of 30 plus years.

We got married, and it wasn’t long until I felt the call of God on my life, and the Lord began training me for working in the ministry. We attended a small country church, and the Lord allowed us to grow spiritually on many levels, but something was lacking. It wasn’t long until we were transferred to the Marine Corps Logistics Base in Albany, Georgia. Can you imagine that? There was a detachment of Air Force personnel stationed with scores of Marines.

My dad had become very sick with cancer, and I applied for a humanitarian reassignment to Avon Park in central Florida. By the time the paperwork came through, my dad was already gone, and the reassignment was of no benefit. Oh, how I wanted to be near my dad, but it just didn’t work out that way.

My wife and I raised our twin daughters in the fear and admonition of the Lord, and had dedicated them to God as babies. I can still remember them begging my wife and me to let them stay at youth camp for just one more week, but that’s not the way things worked. They were good girls, and we did for them as we knew how.

We love our children, but feel like pinching their heads off sometimes. Let’s step ahead several years. I have now retired from the Air Force and pastoring a small country church. Something dreadful began taking place in our daughters’ lives; they began pulling away from us and the God my wife and I were so in love with. Arguments, colorful language, and other areas of their lives were showing us a side of our children we had not seen before. This is embarrassing for any family, but we were pastoring God’s flock, and felt so hurt and wounded as though we had no business ministering to other people.

You can’t imagine the number of times I wanted to turn my license in to our denomination’s officials. I was ashamed of our girls and ashamed of what had become of the dream God had instilled in my heart. I wept, cried, prayed, and wondered what we had done to deserve this. Many others have gone through similar situations, and I just want to encourage you in this: you did not do wrong. Our children make decisions on their own, and they will have to answer for them. My wife and I know how we raised those girls, and we know we not only introduced them to Christ, we lived a Christ-like life before them.

We were transferred to another country church in Georgia, and here’s where the storm got really bad. One of our daughters was pregnant out of wedlock. Can you imagine that? A preacher’s daughter in that condition. We were crushed by the storm, but something inside kept drawing us to the Cross of Calvary. Friend, there’s forgiveness at the foot of the Cross, and my wife and I had to humbly go just like we had told our people on so many occasions. Honestly, we were almost crushed under the weight, but God is so faithful, He held our arms up as only He can.

Meanwhile, we were trying to move home to Florida because my mother and step-dad were getting older, and were in poor health. It took six years to work out something where we could be somewhat close to them. We were offered several churches, but none of them seemed right. Finally, there was a call from the offices in Florida to come to a church less than an hour away from my parents’ home. We moved.

Since moving here, it has been one big storm after another. First of all, the very first Camp Meeting service we went to was interrupted by a call from my mother’s home. I had to leave and get to the hospital right away. She was sick, and had several surgeries and treatments in the years we have pastored here. She never really recovered from the surgeries; she just got weaker all the time.

My mother died after suffering terribly with cancer. It had affected nearly her entire body. Thankfully, my wife and I were there in the room when she breathed her last on this side of heaven. To me, the worst part of her ordeal was to see how her mind deteriorated; it would sometimes take 30 to 45 minutes for her to answer a simple question. It hurt so deeply to see her suffer like that, especially remembering how vibrant she always was.

I’m almost through, so please bear with me a little while longer. When my wife and I moved to Florida, it wasn’t long until one of the twins moved in with us. She is the mother of two girls, both by different daddies. I can’t tell you how much we love those granddaughters of ours; they are joy beyond words. Our daughter isn’t involved in our ministry, and that hurts more than words can express.

There is one daughter in Georgia, who is the mother of two boys by different daddies, and out of wedlock. My wife, two granddaughters and I drove up to see our daughter shortly after Christmas, and as soon as I walked in to her apartment, I was greeted with a very pregnant daughter. Well, it took all my wife and I could do to stay there and not drive nearly six hours back to our home in Florida. Can you imagine the disappointment we felt as we looked at this horrific situation?

So now we have four grandchildren, all with different fathers, and all without the sanctity of marriage. This is quite a storm, to say the least. We love our grandchildren, and love our daughters, but the way the grands arrived is certainly not the way we ever dreamed.

I’m coming in for a landing now. Shortly after arriving at our new assignment here in Florida, I became very sick with sinus problems, and it lasted about seven months. I’ve never coughed, hacked, sneezed and been so out of breath in all my life. To make a long story short, the doc says I probably damaged the retina in my right eye because of all the violent sneezing. I’ve had about twelve surgeries and other procedures on that right eye, and still have no lens in it. A few months ago, I was informed there was nothing else the eye doctors could do. Not good.

Lastly, I’ve had several surgeries because of kidney stones. Catheters, bags, and pain have been the order of the day. The last surgery was worse than all the others for some reason. The surgeon taught my wife how to remove the catheter, and when it was time, out it came, and I felt like a million dollars. Within thirty minutes, however, the most pain I had ever encountered took me to the floor. Finally, I had to make my way to the ER, and got some relief.

You see, there have been storms, and we are still living in one. It is no secret how God takes care of us, and I am ever grateful to know His mercy and grace. Pastors have troubles, too, but some think we have it made in the shade. Pray for us that we will be able to help others the way the Lord has helped us as we’ve gone through the storms of life.