The Story of Theo: Part 3

I had lived in the little blue house in the country longer than I had ever lived anywhere else, as I have always been a vagabond of sorts. At this juncture of my journey, almost ten years in, I was working through some rather serious changes in my health status, I had a lot on my plate with my family, and my best friend and perfect roommate, my three-legged dog Bernie, was slipping away. I must admit that I was swirling a bit. My faith in God never wavered through any of this, but I just did not feel well. I could not seem to help my loved ones, and I knew that I was about to say goodbye to my heart dog. I was struggling, but I still showed up and gave my all.

I did not share a lot of what I was going through with the church or the elders, as I was still trying to wrap my head around my challenges and navigate them to the best of my ability. The one person who was there with me and for me, other than my family, was Denyse. Our reconnection was unexpected and surprising, to say the least. God’s timing is impeccable, that is for sure, and His ways are not our ways.

Denyse and I went to school together and had a lot of shared experiences when we were younger, but I lost touch with her as I did all my high school friends when I went to college and moved away. However, God has a way of bringing things back around at just the right time. God led her to the ministry through one of our Women Arise meet-and-greets in August of 2017 when she and another high school classmate showed up at the event. I was both taken aback and delighted. Several of our ladies shared their testimony, and we gave a presentation about the ministry. Even though it was somewhat of a culture shock to her when she saw firsthand the women we serve and heard their stories, she was not put off, uneasy, or critical. She was in from the beginning and asked that night what she could do to help. She has been with us ever since and is an extremely valuable part of the ministry. I credit some of the growth of the ministry to her as well as my spiritual and personal growth.

I was so thankful I had Denyse working full time alongside me in the ministry. She has always been a tremendous help, especially taking care of the things that I have no desire or skill set for. She is invaluable to the team and mission. She is not a fan of me going on and on about her, but it is important for those of you who don’t know her to glimpse the person she is. Even though I am not telling her story, she is a major player in my story.

We vetted a lot about the ministry and the direction we wanted it to go based on what the Lord was revealing. She brought a fresh perspective to it. Every good organization, business, or ministry needs a “no person” and, whether I asked for it or not, God blessed me with that in Denyse; both the ministry and I are the better for it. I may not like it most of the time, maybe never, but I know how valuable it is to have someone who is bold enough to give me a reality check when necessary, a voice of reason, which a dreamer like me needs.

Denyse very quickly became a beloved member of my family. We were both going through a lot of major life changes at the time of our reconnection. I believe, as the saying goes, that someone’s true character shows forth by how they deal with stressful, challenging, and painful experiences. I saw during that time the same Denyse that I present to you now: who you see is who she be. I know that is not proper English, but it reflects the tagline of my ministry, “Just be who you be,” and Denyse continues to epitomize that. I observed in this woman someone who always took the high road, who always did what was right, and a purity of heart that was so beautiful. I grew to respect her immensely. It was such a blessing, and still is, to have a woman of her caliber in my life.

Denyse is just so real, so dependable, so smart, so compassionate, and so tough; she is truly one-of-a-kind. We quickly became close friends, confidantes, and ministry partners. She was always there ready to lend a helping hand, without complaining, without judging, just getting it done. There were a lot of days I did not want to get up and go. As they say, my get up and go had got up and went. On those days she pushed me, and I am glad she did. She was supportive when I was struggling in my body, unable to get much relief, but she did not let me wallow in my pain. I had not received a diagnosis at this time but would later find out that I was dealing with Sjogren’s syndrome, lupus, and subsequent issues with my eyesight.

She did not mind being my chauffeur, driving me around and getting me where I needed to be even though I am a horrible backseat driver. You would think not being able to see well would deter me from putting my two cents’ worth in, but it did not. I had us running into the back of cars, going off the side of the road, and driving faster than the speed of light more times than you can count, which was confirmation that I should not be behind the wheel of a car. Consequently, not all of our rides together were smooth sailing, enjoyable, or without a little shouting and scolding, but she got me where I needed to be and was a great comfort to me. Actually, I think we were a great comfort to each other as we navigated huge life transitions together.

 Denyse stepped in when Bernie’s health began to decline, and he was having difficulty getting around. He needed more potty breaks and check-ins, and she was so kind to help me care for him. He was a 90-pound lug, too much for my family to help with, and my back was doing a deep-sea dive at the time, along with the other restrictions in my health. Some people would have put Bernie down, but he was not in pain; he just became less mobile. I knew he would tell me when he did not enjoy life anymore. And that he did.

Saying goodbye to Bernie was one of the hardest, most devastating things I ever had to do. The vet came to the little blue house in the country because I wanted Bernie to die in the home he loved. He took his last breath on February 27, 2019. I will not try to articulate my grief because if you know, you know, and if you don’t, you don’t. It was just so hard to be at the house immediately following his death.

I was still grieving and wallowing in a little self-pity when I got a call from the owners of the house asking me to stop by their house because we needed to talk. Now that makes a person a little nervous, and it sounded kind of foreboding to me. I thought maybe they were upset with me because I invited a young lady from our ministry, who was trying to get her life back on track, to stay at the little blue house in the country for a couple of weeks until some things came through for her, and I had not asked their permission. I wasn’t there much at the time. I assumed they would understand why I did this and that they would be in agreement with the arrangement, but I did not communicate with them regarding this plan.

I had drawn somewhat inward because of the hardships I was dealing with in my life and was not the best communicator at the time. Communicating with others one-on-one is something I struggle with on a good day, let alone when I am not in the best place emotionally. Maybe this was what they wanted to talk about. Other than that, I had no idea what this could be about. I could understand them being upset with me over this.

When I arrived at their house on March 17, 2019, and sat down at the table, I knew it was not good by the look on their faces, their posture, and the heavy atmosphere in the room. They told me that they could no longer provide the monthly support that they had been providing, which they had been very faithful and generous with for close to 10 years. I was taken aback somewhat because I had counted on that for a rather long season since the church I was pastoring wasn’t able to provide a lot of money, health insurance, or benefits, but I understood that they felt this season or God-given mandate to help me was ending. I thanked them and extended my gratitude for their overwhelming kindness and support. But that was not it. They also told me that they were putting the little blue house in the country on the market. Crickets. Now, I was in shock.

It was going on the market immediately, and I needed to be prepared to vacate within 30 days of the sale. I could not believe it. I just looked at them and said, “But you told me that I would have a home for as long as I was pastor of Christ Covenant.” They said, “I know, but this is business.” I will never forget those words or that conversation at their dinner table. That was a gut punch to me. They had always told me that I was like a daughter to them, which was a profound blessing to me, but now, “this is business”? Had I been reduced to business? Those words affected me deeply. However, I could not fault them for wanting to contribute to their family business. Family comes first, but I had a nagging feeling that there was more to it. Something just did not compute with me. I think it was because of the manner in which it was done and the timing of their decision to sell.

What had I done wrong? I began to second-guess everything: my choices, words, actions, the whole shebang. Was it really business or was it me? Was it because I allowed someone else to stay at the house without asking them? Were they upset because I had not told them everything I was going through? Was it because they thought I was not doing my job as pastor well? Was it because they thought I took their generosity for granted? Did I depend on them for too long? Did I make assumptions I should not have? What caused them to do this when they did in the manner they did? I will probably never know anything other than what they told me: it was business for the benefit of their family. If that truly was the reason, that is the best reason ever, but I still could not reconcile this truth. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I wasn’t thinking the clearest during this season of my life. I just could not put my finger on it. What was “happening”? It became clear a little bit later that it was not about them and it was not about me. This was a part of God’s plan all along.