Preachers Get All The Women

In case you think that little kids are the only ones who say the darnedest things, let me assure you, they are not. I could write a book about my experience working with Hospice if it weren't for the confidentiality and the fact that I was so incredibly sleep deprived during those days that I know I've forgotten more than I'll ever remember. But, there are a few of my patients and a few encounters with them that I will never forget. Ever.

The first made the comment that inspired the title for this post. I had a, how should I put it? I had an  amorous man for a patient that on occasion would ask me to leave my husband and marry him. Before you start thinking this is cute, let me tell you he begged his nurse, too. He wasn't my only hospice patient lookin' for love. I had quite a few men who ranged from sweetly flirty to deeply creepy and disturbing. I will say this, for most of these guys who were home bound I was the best looking thing around. Sad, yes. But I will be honest and tell you that I desperately depended on their compliments to offset the painfully honest older women I visited who would tell me things like, "Your hips just keep spreadin' and spreadin'." My self-esteem has still not recovered from the roller coaster of hospice work. :)  Anyway, when the flirtations would begin to turn creepy and disturbing I would pull out all the stops to dissuade it.  Being married and pregnant or postpartum most of my working career was no obstacle to these lonely men. They would offer to take in my kids, too.  I would usually break down and confide that my husband was a preacher and it probably wouldn't look great for the preacher's wife to move in with another man. Some guys seemed to take it as a personal challenge to flirt with me more. One patient just said in frustration, "Preacher's get all the women!" Josh and I still laugh at that declaration four years later.  Poor Josh, all he got was me. :)

I didn't always tell my patients that I was a preacher's wife. I wasn't actually supposed to share very much about my personal life, but I'll be honest. It's hard to go into people's homes at least once a month, sometimes more and learn very personal details about every part of their life without disclosing some things about myself. I learned that the fact that I was a preacher's wife would be met with 2 distinct reactions. People either LOVED that I was a preacher's wife or, they weren't so thrilled. Let's face it, people usually either love or hate preachers. It's just how it is. Well, I still remember a patient who had a not so thrilled reaction when he learned I was a preacher's wife. I have to set the scene for you. As Sophia from "The Golden Girls" would say: Picture it. Waynesboro, Mississippi. 2007. I was 7 months pregnant and it was July. It was hot as all get out. I got papers telling me I had a new patient. I was warned by the home health aid that the yard was very overgrown and there were probably snakes and that snakes are drawn to pregnant women. (It's why I haven't gotten pregnant again. :)  I had never been given a patient in this town and soon learned that it was an hour drive. I made the drive and trekked through the yard as fast as my big ol' pregnant self could move and was welcomed into a home that would make a great episode of Hoarders. I don't say that judgmentally. Believe me, it was not the only house I went into in that condition. I made myself a space and sat down to begin my assessment. It was a very sweet lady who was living with her brother in law who would later be put on our service as well. He sat in the corner and grunted. He was nice enough to show me the gun he kept hidden in his sock. I felt so safe. There is nothing like a dementia patient with a weapon. Anyway, my sweet patient answered my questions and as we got to the spiritual assessment she told me that the gun totin' grunter in the corner was a deacon. I thought that meant it would be safe to share that I was a preacher's wife. I thought wrong. He was quick to tell me "All preacher's care about is money!" Can I just tell you now, I was not in the mood for that particular response. It took everything in my being not to go off on him and tell him that that was exactly why I was out driving hours a day in record heat while I was on the verge of popping out a baby, because my husband was all about the money. Nevermind that we had taken a 50% pay cut when we went into ministry. And that was with me working. I was a tad furious with him. I knew he had dementia and was not in his right mind, but I also knew that his words represented exactly how many, many people feel. I know, because he's not the only one who has made that kind of comment around me or Josh.

Again, I don't really like talking about money. All I'm going to say is that NOTHING in my life has offended me more than people implying that Josh and I went into ministry or have made other choices in our life based on money. For one, if you checked our bank account, you would just laugh at that idea anyway. Two, as imperfect and flawed as Josh and I are, the one thing we have prayed and cried and agonized over is being where God wants us to be. Regardless of how hard that might be. Regardless of what it might mean for us financially. Regardless of what it means for us emotionally, mentally, spiritually or socially. 

I share this, because while we do not do ministry for the money, there are often times when it can feel very unrewarding. There are times when you begin to question if it is worth the sacrifices you've made. If it is worth the time you invest. If it's worth knowing that 97% of people don't truly get what your life is all about or why God is such a big deal to you. You go to bed and wonder if makes a difference in even 1 persons life that you've chosen the road of ministry. Because really, if it's not even making a difference in 1 persons life, maybe we should go back to our plan A, which meant a lot more money, security, and comfort for us. 

We don't have a huge church. We don't lead big conferences or write books. We have a sweet little congregation that longs to be revived and see it's community changed by the light of Jesus. We have wise, seasoned believers and we have kids who come from homes that redefine most people's idea of "broken". We have a community of addicts, mentally ill, physically handicapped, and spiritually blind people. We have a neighborhood with old, run down houses with tenants who move frequently. We live in a community where when you tell people where you live they say, "Oh" and you know what that means. There are some wonderful people who live here and they will tell you that the neighborhood is not what it used to be. There are countless kids who are neglected and hungry, in more ways than one. 

Those kids are the reason that I feel more sense of purpose than I have ever felt in my life. From the day we moved in those kids found their way to our house. I know it's because of my kids, not anything Josh or I have done. Most of those kids have already moved away, but one boy has become our 4th child. Our doorbell rings every school day at 2:45 without fail and most Saturdays about 10:00. (We had to have a little discussion about what time he showed up on Saturdays!!) He's eaten many meals with us, suffered through playroom and bedroom clean-up, gone to church with us, watched movies with us, and even gotten us in trouble with neighbors. :)  I struggled when he first started coming around. He's older than my kids. At first we thought he was completely rude because he would not speak to me or Josh and then we learned that he had some mental and developmental challenges. He was loud. He smelled bad. During the summer he would come to our house wearing the same clothes for days on end. He needed a haircut. I'm telling you the truth when I tell you I had to really pray that God would help me love this kid. I would get mad at his parents. They would drop him off and not be home when we would take him home hours later, after our kid's bedtimes. We would see his mom out places and she wouldn't even acknowledge us. He's spent so much time at our house that he's seen it all. He's seen me hollerin' at my kids, and not the "we're out in public so I'll pretend I have patience" hollerin', the "I feel like snot, I'm miserable and y'all are driving me crazy" hollerin'. I can't tell you how many times I've figured that I scared him off for good. But I'll never forget the day I said something about being mean and he said, "You're not mean. You're nice." And I wondered how much worse he had seen in his life. I remember the first time I heard him really laugh and I wondered if he laughed when he was at his house. I remember the first night he went to church with us and I realized his mental challenges when he couldn't find the right page in the hymnal. 

Well, I have to tell you. God has worked in his life. It's the only way to explain it. He is a different kid. He looks different. You know how God changes some people and they just look different? And while I hope that our family has been a positive influence in his life, I know only God can get the glory for the kind of change I've seen in him and his family. His Mom speaks and waves to us. She smiles, something I never saw her do for over a year. He ate supper with us tonight and the kids went to watch TV while Josh and I sat at the table and talked. I looked and saw him in the middle of my kids and I realized, I love him. Like he's my own. And my heart did little flip flops of happiness about the work God has done on my stubborn little heart.  

We didn't see him much over Christmas break and again I worried I had done something to upset him. But, as soon as school started back, he was back. And this time, he brought us something. One of the greatest gifts I've ever received.

It's a jar with cookie mix. Josh said I can never make them, we just have to save it. :)  I know that this may mean very little to most of you, but for us, it was like being given a million dollars. It wasn't just cookie mix. It was evidence that a change has happened in people's hearts. It was evidence that God took some people who had been the recipients of many different people and church's generosity and gave them a desire to give back. It was evidence that maybe God had done something in just one person or one family's hearts. It was evidence that we are exactly where we are supposed to be. 

I don't know that preachers get all the women. But seeing people's lives changed, that's pretty cool too! :)