𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑:

Yesterday, my dear pastor and his wife taught together.

They shared, side by side, with the ease and wisdom of partners who have both enjoyed and weathered decades of fruitful ministry.

They took the stage, smiling at each other, and I found myself instantly transported. In that fraction of a moment, indelible memories rushed in, reminding me of all the times Jimmy and I had done the same. We never tired of sharing the stage, or our hearts.

Jimmy, an exceedingly gifted communicator, masterfully dispensed God’s Word. I gazed adoringly, never ceasing to marvel at the privilege that was mine to stand beside him.

We shared, we taught, we exhorted, we encouraged, yet still somehow managed to flirt our way through each talk. Our chemistry was undeniable, and we had a crush on each other that never waned.

Marriage and ministry were never separate lanes for us. Loving each other and serving together were seamless.

I loved being a pastor’s wife.
I miss being a pastor’s wife.

I loved being Jimmy’s wife.
I miss being Jimmy’s wife.

I loved teaching with him.
I miss teaching with him.

𝑇ℎ𝑢𝑠, today’s struggle.

For thirty-one years, I was enjoyed the sacred gift of ministering beside the only boy I ever loved.

And then…that life ended, along with my Jimmy’s.

What followed was not just grief and loneliness and questions I wasn’t ready to consider.

Who am I now that the life I knew so completely is gone?

How do I continue in a calling that was always plural, but now singular?

How do I walk forward alone when every step before the loss had always been taken together?

Joy has been mine, but it is tentative.
Today it crumbled again.

Still, this much remains true:

What we lived was real.
What we had was a bona fide fairytale.

What we shared mattered. (Or at least I hope it did.)

At the end of the service today, when it was time to celebrate and give thanks for God’s goodness over the past year, I slipped out instead.

I 𝑎𝑚 grateful.

I am deeply grateful and ever mindful of God’s goodness and provision in my life.

Today just simply and unexpectedly laid bare the contrast between what was and what is.

It left me fragile and acutely aware that even the smallest act of kindness would have left me undone. So I sought solace alone in my car with the One Jimmy and I loved our whole lives. He dealt tenderly with my heart, excavating joy from the ruins, and it was sweet.

Today was hard, yes.

But I would not trade our years for anything. I’d have done it a million times over if it meant I got to be Jimmy’s girl.

If it’s true that grief is the price we pay for love (and I believe it is) then a love like ours was certainly worth the ache.

“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”
~𝐊𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧