Reflections

As the clock on my time as a “located preacher” ticks ever nearer it’s intended end, I find myself being more nostalgic. These 40 years have been a thrill beyond words. Tonight, on family vacation (read: Melanie, our two sons, their wives, and our five grandchildren all ages 10 and under) I thought about Melanie. She’ll miss being “the preacher’s wife.” That’s the title she has known now for 40 years, the few before that she was “the preacher’s daughter.” For the first time in her life she’ll have a preacher who is not a part of her immediate family. My has she ever been a good preacher’s wife. I’m not really sure what that title means. I’ve always thought it simply meant she was married to the preacher. Her undefined role in my mind has always meant to me that she was a good wife. And she was, well, and is. I’m happy at home, I don’t think of other women, I don’t take a ton of stress from a dysfunctional Homelife into the pulpit with me, and I don’t ever think of divorce. I decided years ago that she didn’t have to keep the brethren happy, just me. I think about it now and she’s the only girl I ever took to hear me preach. That first time was in 1981, we had just begun dating and I was to preach in Franklin, GA at a little church that met in a trailer and had only 7 members. I preached the one sermon I had, “Standing in the Gap.” I had stolen it from my college roommate, Van Vansandt. They didn’t invite me back - I didn’t preach it as well as Van. My next time preaching was at the Refuge church where Mama Chick was famous for how she took care of young preachers. How many thousand times has Melanie heard me preach? She’s moved with me without complaint. She’s put up with things people have said about me - her approach, bake them a pie. She’s lived on less than she should have. She’s never complained about 2 a.m. phone calls or trips interrupted by an unexpected funeral. She raised two sons with me being gone much more than I should have been. She’s endured disappointments and discouragement. And though it all, she hasn’t complained, she has been my greatest encourager, and I can’t remember her ever being critical of a lesson (well, maybe once she said: “that’s just not my style of sermon”). She grew up not giving empty compliments, so the stamp of approval on a sermon is always sincere, and as far as a human is concerned, always the one I covet the most. Simply put, I have been blessed and I am thankful. When I count my blessing, and they are many, outside of God’s grace, none stands out more clearly than Melanie.