The Day After

SO… what do I say today? 

The day after having to close a dream. The day after having to end sixteen years of blood, sweat, and tears. The day after having to bring a close to some of the hardest moments of my life as well as some of the most incredible moments. The day after having to say goodbye to friendships and relationships that have been part of my life since I landed in Maple Ridge as a young (not by age) pastor with all the vision and passion that many men and women enter into ministry with. The day after!

Honestly, I really don’t even know where to begin. Yesterday was a tough but inspiring day for everyone in attendance. People from the past, people from the present, and people who became part of our lives through the many opportunities that presented themselves over the years outside of the central focus of ministry at Discovery gathered with us. We worshipped, we prayed, we listened, and we were taught. We cried, we laughed, we smiled, we hugged, we ate, and we shared stories together.  

But in the end, everyone knew that the reason we were there was to say goodbye to a dream. To a way of life, a community, that had become part of their lives at some point along their personal and family journeys.

For some, this was their one and only connection with a church ever. Jesus was just a word that was uttered in anger, or in other ways to express emotion but was never associated with a connection to the heart. The reality of this community coming to an end, a community where they literally raised their families was an overwhelming and heart-breaking day.

For others, this was not their first merry-go-round! You see, the reality is this was the third church in this building (which is a whole other story for another day) that failed to survive. Some of the people in attendance yesterday were there for each and every one of the closures of God’s church in this location in our city. To them, there was familiarity and fear associated with being in that situation once again. To them, there was the pain of loss once again but there was also a sense of peace and hope that shone through in the words, the songs, the prayers, and the fellowship.

For some, this was something that just did not make any sense whatsoever. The place was packed out in a way that we had not seen in years. And for some of the people in attendance yesterday they could not understand why it was necessary to close the doors. Some asked innocently, “Why couldn’t we keep it going with someone else in charge?” Some who were not in the loop of all that had come our way over the past year asked, “Why did the church have to close?” I heard more than once, “Can’t we just start this up again once you are healthy again?” I think all of these questions were valid considering the spirit that was in the room for the most part! It wasn’t so much like a funeral (as some expected) but more of a celebration and there was an energy that we had not felt in months because of the presence of so many more people.

But, nevertheless here I am reflecting and writing about what do I say today?

Well, I say with a heavy heart that I am grateful. Even though it seems like a bit of an oxymoron to say it that way I am grateful. Grateful for the years, the learning, the challenges, the successes, the losses, the friends, the relationships, the memories and the moments, that can never be forgotten!

Honestly, when the end comes for something in our lives it is so much easier for us to get focused on the difficult times and situations that have led us to that outcome. But the reality is those moments are far outweighed by the hundreds of moments and memories that make up sixteen years of ministry to one church family and almost twenty-two years to the community at large.

Over the previous week I met with individuals who never graced the doors of the church building where we gathered who mentioned that their lives were impacted by our presence. One former neighbour mentioned how his perception of pastors and priests was forever changed by our time together. Others shared with me that I would never know the impact I had on their lives even though they had not made a commitment to follow Jesus over the time that we shared life together here in this beautiful part of God’s creation. And then there’s the teenagers who today tower over me in stature, that I held in my arms and wondered alongside their parents about what the future would bring for them. Honestly, I think that is one of the things I will miss the most and that is watching them continue to grow and the things that God will bring into their lives along the way.

The reality is, I don’t think there are enough pages to record all the memories or moments that have come along with this journey the past sixteen years. However, I will say this for whatever it is worth and that is I wished I had recorded more of them somehow or in some way. The truth is, life is busy and we often move through it without giving much thought to days like these. Maybe we know in the backs of our minds that endings are inevitable in one way or another. But we just get so caught up in the day-to-day that we fail to take the time to stop, reflect, ponder and record those moments that can far too easily fade over time.

Yet, at the same time loss is part of ending. And today I am sad. I am sad and heavy hearted. Maybe it is just part of my personality and nurture, but I tend to be more pessimistic than optimistic. And even though the sun is shining at the moment through our living room window where I am sitting in my recliner, I can’t help think about the ‘why’ and the ‘what if’s’ of the ending of our time here in Maple Ridge. Why did things wind up the way they did? Why did this double concussion enter my world in a time when the community of faith I had dedicated my life to perhaps needed me most? What if we had done things differently? What could we have done to prepare ourselves for the challenges that came our way over the past couple of years?

Honestly, with the end comes a whole slew of ‘whys’ and ‘what ifs’! And frankly, they can drive a person insane. They can drive a person even deeper into despair if we allow them free reign in our minds, hearts, and souls! Which is why the Bible tells us to take every thought captive. The Apostle Paul write in Second Corinthians chapter 10, verse 5: “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” Basically, Paul challenges us to do something about all thoughts that are not well-pleasing to God, before they enter our hearts and become a part of us. And in this situation, when reflecting on the end of something we care about, something we’ve invested deeply into what I think he would say is allow your hearts to be sad, to grieve for sure the loss of something good, but do not let it drive us down the empty and endless road of ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’!

Actually just as another aside in this day of reflecting, I want to encourage anyone who will read this to grieve well. Honestly, one of the things I have learned throughout this journey being sidelined with the concussions is I have not grieved well the losses of my life. As a pastor especially, we are often the ones that people lean on in times of loss. We are the ones who by nature of the role and position wind up being upfront, front and center, helping families, friends, and relatives deal with their loss in all kinds of situations or circumstances. Personally, I led both the funerals of my mother and father and found that I didn’t grieve well either of their passing’s because I was that person in that role. Also, in ministry I have not grieved well the losses that inevitably come with ministry to a community of people wherever they are gathered. From the losses of people for all kinds of reasons today, to the deaths of loved ones, to the ends of ministries and initiatives that are birthed in the hearts and minds of God’s people it is important to learn to grieve well.

William Shakespeare speaking on the importance of learning to grieve well put it this way: “He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend.”

When it comes to the ending of a congregation or any other ending in life it is not unusual for us to want to rush through our grief and pain. It is not unusual in a society built on comfort as the end goal for us to want to minimize the pain, the sadness, the heartache. But honestly, that is the worst thing we can do in the midst of change or times of ending in our lives. Sure, it is not fun by any means to embrace the pain, the sadness, and the heaviness of heart that comes in these kinds of situations and circumstances. But it is necessary if we are going to come out the other side with a healthy sense of perspective that allows us to move on to what God has in store for us in the future.

Well, with that said, or more like with all this written I am going to listen to my own reflections and take some time to engage the grief and the loss. Also, at the same time I will smile and rejoice today when God brings to mind some of the memories and moments that I hope to never ever forget. While I still have more to do at the church today to help bring final closure to the journey, hopefully I can do that well engaging the fullness of all that comes with the end of one chapter and the opening of a new one!

May God richly bless you all in the journey wherever you are!

Trevor