It was a “happy hectic” Christmas season for my family. With Christmas and New Year’s falling on Sundays in 2022, we had quite a bit of activity at the end of the year. I write this anticipating that getting “back into the groove” will be more challenging for me in 2023 than it usually is due to a very busy schedule heading into the New Year.
I have always been a fairly sentimental guy, but that soft-heartedness was compounded dramatically with the births of our daughters. I loved raising them, spending time with them, and leading them in their relationships with the Lord. They are both adults now, and although I look forward to moving into my twilight years with Dedra, whom I love more today than I did almost 33 years ago when we married, I know that January will be a difficult month for me. I do not write this looking for sympathy, most of us go through particular stages in life, but it becomes more difficult for me the older I get to say goodbye to my youngest daughter and her family, who now live in Ohio, and even to my oldest daughter and her family, who live 5 miles from me and worship right here at LifePoint. I want the people I love to be near me. Most of us do.
As I reflect upon these matters, I suspect my sentimentality derives in part from being the youngest child in a large family and seeing my older siblings come for visits and then seeing them leave again. I loved having family return to our big turn-of-the-century home for the holidays and can remember being sad even when they arrived, knowing they would soon head back to their own homes. Regardless of its origin, that soft-heartedness has served me well in ministry, making it easy for me to love and shepherd people. But it hasn’t always been that way. As a police officer in my early twenties, it did not take long for me to realize I did not have the mental makeup to constantly encounter people who did not want to encounter me. It seems that every time I arrested someone, it put a damper on our conversation. Smile. As a missionary (although I loved serving the Lord overseas) I never really got over missing loved ones back in the States. So I guess it is fair to say—gee whiz—that I am a bit of a softy, and that will become more obvious as Dedra and I continue to navigate this new era in our lives.
All of this makes me reflect upon one of the things I look forward to in heaven—no more goodbyes. Or, at least, not the type of goodbyes we experience on this side of the grave. I realize that as a pastor I should say that all I want to do in heaven is see Jesus. To be honest, that is true for me too. The more I have come to know the Lord throughout my many years walking with him, the more I want to spend eternity in close, physical proximity to him (from a human point of view). But reality is just that…reality. I do not fully comprehend what standing in his presence will mean to me. I look forward to it, but I have little in my experience by which to gauge that moment. I do, however, fully understand what it means to lose loved ones and say goodbye as a human being. I have a lifetime of experiences with which to gauge those emotions, and I would prefer not to have to do that anymore.
As I read Jesus’ high priestly prayer in John 17, when he was experiencing a huge range of emotions on that last evening of his life, I hear a tinge of that desire in him as well. He prays for his disciples, those whom he has loved fiercely and will now be leaving, and I can sense his dislike for the fact that goodbyes are inevitable, and painful, in human experience. He knows that will not always be the case, and I know that too based on what the Scriptures teach me, but, like Jesus, I still prefer not to endure them.
And so, if the Lord chooses to let me live to the point when this article is read by you, know that I will enter the new year full of hope and anticipation for what the future holds, while mourning a bit for what has passed. That’s okay. We are moving toward the consummation of all things, when goodbyes become a vestige of our past and no longer an experience of our everlasting future. My sadness is buoyed by knowing that I have the pleasure and privilege of serving as one of your pastors, about which I am also a bit sentimental, but that’s enough about that—for the time being.
Grace and peace,
Pastor Jym