The Story of Theo: Part 2
Denyse jokingly says to me, at least I think it is jokingly, that I am the one who got us into this “mess” to begin with; this whole unbelievably difficult, scary, sad, emotionally draining, life-sacrificing experience of four years. In actuality, she is right, but I was not responsible for Theo falling in love with her and vice versa. This case has many layers, and there is nothing traditional about it, so I want to add a sense of understanding to Theo’s story, for his sake going forward as well as mine: details such as the timeline, the happenings, the process, the village that it took to get where we are now, and more. Please bear with me as I bear an intimate glimpse into my soul.
The backstory to the story of Theo begins with a little blue house in the country. I had been a resident of Lima, Ohio, for close to 23 years. That is where my life was. I was happy there. It was a crazy life at times, but it was my life. In 2007, I decided to take a break from pastoring while I attended seminary. Being a pastor for seven years in the heart of Lima can take a toll on you, and signs of burnout were becoming clear.
I was not turning away from God, just exploring other paths: foreign missions, teaching, becoming a professor of theology, etc. My thought at the time was that my pastoring days were behind me. So, I broke the news to my dad, who had been a faithful supporter of my call to pastor from day one. For years, he had been driving back and forth from Belle Center to my church in Lima two to three times a week for ministry, a 45-minute drive each way. I told him it was time for him to look for another church, another pastor.
He half-heartedly began to look for a church close to where he lived. He was discouraged because he just could not make a connection until he decided to try Christ Covenant, a little church on Ludlow Road in Bellefontaine, Ohio. As soon as he walked in, he was greeted with shouts of excitement from people who knew him and he them. He immediately felt welcomed and that this fellowship was a possibility.
The church was going through a season of transition. Their pastor was getting on in years and had fallen and broken his hip, and they did not know if he would be able to return to the pulpit. The laypeople in the congregation were taking turns preaching and teaching. Of course, when my dad got into conversation with them, he told them all about me and, as a father will do, told them how gifted he thought I was in the realm of preaching and teaching. He shared that if I had continued pastoring, he would still be with me. He also told them that we had a music ministry that we maintained, which was his greatest love.
It just so “happened” that the gentleman who played the keys and led the singing was going to be out of town for a couple of weeks. The leaders of the church asked us if we could step in and do the music for the following two Sundays. I need to take a pause here to note that I do not believe in things that are happenstance or coincidence; I believe in Divine Providence and that alone. So, if you see my quotation marks around a word that signifies coincidence, I am noting that belief.
My dad was so excited about this invitation that I could not say no. He had always supported me, so I wanted to support him in this. I also loved praise and worship, and the ministry God had given us through music. We did all original material written by my dad and me. I will forever be grateful that God allowed us to lead others in the realm of praise and worship.
It went very well, and they asked my dad if he thought I could mix some Scripture reading into the service the following week. I did, and they liked that also. They then asked my dad if he thought I would pulpit fill the following Sunday. He stepped to my defense immediately and said, “Oh, there’s no doubt she can do it, but I will tell you right now, if you have a problem or any issues with a woman pastor, this will go no further.” He knew the difficulty of this call and had seen the struggles I had endured in the seven years that I pastored. The four elders concluded that it would not be a problem, and I stepped into the pulpit the next Sunday. They were very well pleased and asked me to pulpit fill for two more Sundays, and then an offer was put on the table to become their pastor. I said that I would have to think about it for a couple of reasons. First, I had decided I no longer wanted to pastor a church, and second, I lived in a city that I truly felt was home, and I wasn’t ready to leave it.
The drive to Christ Covenant was long and could be treacherous depending on the weather. I prayed about it and prayed about it and prayed about it. I conferred with my pastors for their guidance, direction, and prayers. After much consideration, I told the elders that I would take the pastorate on a trial basis, for both them and me, to see if the Lord wanted us to pursue it further, so that is what we did. Once I was at the church with the people, doing what I do, I began to return to the joy and energy of being a pastor again. It was wonderful and exciting! Everything clicked and seemed to have a future, but I was still torn on whether I wanted to stay in Lima, continue to pastor from afar, cut my tenure short, or figure out another way to make it work, such as moving closer.
During that searching and seeking season, one of the elders was having surgery in Lima, a couple of miles from my home. I felt so blessed that I could be at the hospital to pray with him and wait with his wife. During our conversation, she asked me what would sway me to move closer to the church. I told her that it had always been my dream to have a little house in the country, just me and my dog.
It could not have been more than a couple of weeks later that I got a call from her and her husband about a little house in the country they wanted me to look at. He just “happened” to be driving by the house as the realtor was hammering the for-sale sign into the ground. He stopped and inquired about the house. He wanted me to see it right away. If I liked it and the idea of moving back to the small town I grew up in, close to my parents and close to the church, he would purchase the house. They knew I did not have the means to buy it on my own; I truly had nothing to contribute financially. They were more than happy to do it and even hired someone to complete some updates. I was on top of the world; I just knew this was right.
The deal was that we would approach the house as a parsonage of sorts, which it truly was. This provided both them and me with some benefits. The words spoken to me at that time were, “This will be your home as long as you are pastor of Christ Covenant.” I was elated. I felt confident that I could give the flock my full attention and add to the ministry. It was divine at the time. God was blessing the ministry and all of us connected to it. It seemed to be a match made in heaven. I had my piece of paradise, seven tenths of a mile from my parents, in the country, and in an environment that allowed me a quiet space to study, pray, prepare, and just be.
The owners were very giving and made rent as affordable as possible for me, and they even took that responsibility off me when I encountered some health issues and family matters that drained my finances. They also helped with the propane to heat my house. They were amazing, and I will forever be grateful. I had my little blue house in the country, just me and my beloved three-legged wonder, Bernie. It was perfect, but time changes everything, including people. I am not exactly sure of the moment or event that caused the change in the tide, but I can still feel it in my belly when I think about it.
It was obvious that the Lord has always had His hand on Christ Covenant. He continued to pour out His blessings on us; lives were transformed, our community impact was palpable, and my love for the church grew. Little did I know that after almost a decade of serving God and bearing fruit, my life was going to change abruptly and completely. The next part of the story will probably sound like a “somebody did somebody wrong song,” and I don’t mean it that way, but it is my truth, and it makes Theo’s story all the more incredible.
The little blue house in the country was home, and I truly believed it could be my forever home.