As the wife of a pastor, I thought I was sensitive to the needs of a widow. I thought I was sensitive to the needs of a pastor’s widow. Maybe I was and maybe I wasn’t. What I did not know or even come close to understanding was the trauma that the pastor’s widow endures. Just as the wife of a pastor has a different role than that of any other ‘wife role,’ the pastor’s widow has an unusual role and must navigate through many pitfalls in her journey, mainly changing her role and still being supportive of the ministry she and her late husband had together.
I, like most people, did not want to think about the ‘what ifs’ and never really investigated what I would do ifI suddenly became a widow. Sure, Randy and I talked about what we would do if we found ourselves without the other, but we never really discussed the ministry ‘what if’ aspect. I did not read articles or go to workshops or conferences that discussed this subject. In fact, I am not sure I ever saw a ‘what if’ workshop advertised. As a result, when I became a widow, I had to blaze my own trail, so to speak, and try to figure out where, how, or if I would fit into the ministry that my husband and I had once forged together. I needed to determine how ministry would look to me or if I even wanted to be in ministry.
One of the most difficult things about being a pastor’s widow was that I still felt the responsibility for the health of our church. I know it was not up to me to see that people grieved well, but I wanted to see all of us come through the heartache and be better on the other side of it. I quickly found that I could not do that.
Another difficult part of the process was cleaning out Randy’s office and my office. Randy, as many pastors, had massive amounts of books, sermons, teaching materials, and curios. Yep. Curios. Whenever anyone told him they were going on vacation, he would tell them to have a good time and bring him back a souvenir. Often, they did. Asa result, I had massive amounts of souvenirs to pack away and try to determine what to do with them.
After I removed the things important to me, I had our children to get everything they wanted. Then I allowed the staff and our ministry students to do the same. Once we started the process, it took about three weeks to finish. The day my daughter walked into the office and found that they had started renovations in her dad’s office was a very difficult day. We knew we needed to vacate but that did not alleviate the pain of seeing Randy’s desk, shelves, and office furniture being removed. It was as if there was another level of grief that had to be traversed.
I was then asked how much longer it would be until my office was cleaned out. There was a need for the space to be used and how quickly could it be utilized? So, I started cleaning out that office too. I KNOW it needed to be done, but it was another tie that was being severed. Until I cleaned out my office, it still felt as if I had a place. It was a place to escape the crowds, the fact that Randy was no longer there, and I could continue as I had for 26years. Afterwards, not so much. So, I cleaned it out and then went to the storage areas where Randy had kept his personal archives: more sermons, books to sell, personal journals, sermon illustrations, and more: wooden eggs that would one day ‘walk’ (Thanks to SamJohnson!), Star of David bookmarks, bags of seeds to plant and see a harvest, mustard seeds to increase our faith, olive wood communion cups, bags of five smooth stones from the Kidron Brook, macrame sling shots like the shepherdDavid used, rosewood ink pens, gift books for pastors, gifts for roundtables in which Randy participated. Cleaning this area took another couple of weeks. Doing this, too, was another level of grief that had to be traversed.
During this time of cleaning out our personal possessions, I was also cleaning out anything in our home that belonged to the church. I think I found 500 Griffin First Assembly ink pens that Randy brought home in his pockets from the office and more than two dozen dry erase markers. I don’t have a dry erase board in my home so I know they weren’t mine! For 25 years, I had been responsible for costumes used during productions at the church. I had massive amounts of fabrics, thread, embellishments, and accessories that I needed to get back to the church. It seemed as if I would take one carload of things to the church and bring one carload home. This continued for weeks but was finally accomplished. Another level of grief.
One day I looked around my home and realized that I now no longer had a physical place at the church. Of course, I still had friends and acquaintances in the church but there was no reason for me to report for duty on a regular basis. I COULD have skipped church services, but I didn’t. I was just as regular in attendance as I had been before Randy died. No one expected me to be there, but I expected it of myself. My reasoning was that if I could do it, if I could still attend church and still participate in services, then no one else had an excuse. No one could say it was too hard to not hear Randy preach. No one could say they couldn’t come because it was not the same. If I could do it, anyone could. Or so I thought.
Many times, I would leave at the end of service, head home, and sob as I drove. What was the point? Why did I need to continue? Where else would I go? I had a life well-lived for 26 years to that point in time and did not feel that any other place was home. In addition to walking through my own grief journey, I had two nephews who were living with me after the death of their parents and knew they did not need another upheaval in their lives. So, I stayed. An understatement would be that it was hard, probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done.
Whenever Randy and I talked about transition, he would laugh and say that if we ever left our church, in six months, they would ask, “Randy who?” I did not believe him. He was right on some levels, but it took a bit longer than six months. I will never forget the day I walked into the foyer and began talking with one of the Valor (ministry) students and she had no idea who I was or who Randy was. Fora moment, I felt insulted and then realized that she had no reason to know us. Randy was gone and I had no visible platform or contact with her or the other students. Why would she know me?
When I was a young woman, I had resisted going into ministry or being a pastor’s wife. Once I submitted to the will of God, I embraced it all with joy, glad to find my identity in being who God called me to be. I was not only the wife of a pastor but felt that I was part of the team. After Randy’s death, I was not a wife and not a part of the team. Randy was gone but I was still there. No husband, no team leader, but trying to find my position, in or out of the church. My identity was being part of the team, not the leader of the team but what I saw as an integral part of the ministry. For a bit I felt guilty that my life had been so wrapped up in Randy but then I realized that it was exactly what I was supposed to do: two becoming one. Unfortunately for me, I now had to learn how to not be two as one but to be only one. Why are there no stories in scripture that tell us how to become one again after being two? I wonder if it is because it is a personal journey that has no rules?
Personal transition is hard but when you try to transition a church, there arises a whole new level of difficulty. I have had many people ask me how I did it and my true answer is, “I don’t know.” I am not sure how God equipped me to stay as long as I did or how I kept His peace during the journey. I can only say that it was totally God’s hand that kept me sane (and saved!). My everyday prayer was and continues to be that God would give me peace and comfort, help me make the correct decisions, and help me to not become angry or bitter. I think He has done that. At least most of the time. There are moments…..
In addition to the question of how I did it, comes the question of what advice could I give to the church, the board, the staff after the death of the senior pastor? What about walking through the transition? How do you do transition? These are somethings I have found to be true in my journey:
1. If you do not have a transition plan for the church, consider developing one. What will the church do if you leave or die? Will the ministries continue? Do you have someone who can take over? Will you train that person?
2. If you do not have a transition plan for your spouse, do it now! I was a volunteer for 26 years at our church. That means no renumeration, no paycheck. When Randy died, so died his salary package. Fortunately for me, the church board decided to give me one year of his salary over the course of three years. It was a much-needed blessing. It gave me a respite during those first months of not feeling that I had to make major financial decisions.
3. Get a key-man insurance policy with the church and your spouse as the beneficiaries. The church paid for Randy’s policy which was in effect for more than 20years before he died. The church received 90% of the death benefit and I received 10% of the death benefit. In addition, if the intention of the policy is to pay off the indebtedness of the church, it should be ratified by the church body and not left to the discretion of the church board at the time the death benefit is collected. Money, regardless of how much there is, can be spent unwisely (or just spent) and frittered away. I believe we all know how easily and how quickly money can disappear!
4. Ask. Ask what you as a church board or new pastor can do to make the transition easier for the surviving spouse. Don’t assume you know what is best for the family. If the surviving spouse wants to be involved, try to determine how that will look. The spouse can be a true asset if you allow it. One pastor-friend embraced the widow of the former pastor, put her on staff with him, and she now runs interference, especially for those who are struggling with changes. Doing this has promoted unity in the church and has made her feel that she still has available place in the ministry that she and her late husband started. I am sure there have been some challenges, but both the new pastor and the widow of the former pastor are gracious, kind people who want God’s best for the kingdom.
5. Communicate. If you plan to make changes, go slowly. Changing directions is not always a bad thing but there should be a reason to make the change and it should be communicated to those affected, especially if you are the new pastor or new to the staff. Don’t stop ministries just because you don’t want to do them. There was a reason, a need for the ministry to be started and continued. If you are new to the church and the community, you may not yet see the need. There are always opportunities to get the church family on your page. It is all in how you communicate the change!
6. Purchase your intellectual rights from the church. Randy did this when we began our television and radio ministries. Since it was already done, there was no question as to what to do with his sermons and teaching materials or who owned them. They belonged to Randy and after his death, to his estate (ME!). No one could borrow the materials or publish them without my consent.
7. Give the late pastor’s family some time. You don’t need to give them years but give them time to grieve and time to let go. If you find they are causing problems for you, handle the problems as you would handle anyone who is grieving. The family can be an asset if you allow it.
8. Let the decision to leave or to stay be theirs.Don’t ask how long they are staying or when they will leave. Don’t suggest another ministry they could attend or be a part of. Don’t suggest that the widow remarry. Grief is a horrible thing and both you and the church should be a respite for their pain.
9. If you use social media either in a personal or professional manner, read and re-read, what you say about the past, the past ministries, the former pastor. Just because you have a different idea does not mean that the previous pastoral team was wrong, backward, or misguided and that your way is better. It is just different. It is okay to be different but never okay to be critical.
10. You may or may not leave a legacy. A friend of mine recently told me that ministry people have been told to build hedges and put boundaries around their lives to protect their integrity. He also stated that in the current age of cancelled culture, you better not die. My dad always told me that the only thing we really have is our good name and reputation and we should work hard to keep it. Even with trying to maintain our integrity, people can still say things about you or your ministry after you are gone, and it may or may not be truth. If you are gone, there is no way you can refute it, but your family should be able to do so. Leave enough of a ‘paper-trail’ that your family can follow. Randy always had a daily/weekly/monthly agenda. Both his personalassistant and I knew where he was and what he was doing. Regardless of thoseagendas, people inspired by Satan, may try to destroy the legacy, your ethicsand integrity when you are not there to refute the allegations. God is your defense and as another friendfrequently states, “The days are not all in. God keeps the books.”
