After nearly one year since Connie's stroke, and nearly one year of working with her through recovery therapy, I am just about emotionally spent. I am happy that my bipo has been held at bay for that amount of tim, but I think that has been stretched just about as far as it can.

I hope I am making myself clear, although I am not so sure. It isn't that I don't want to help, I don't know if I'll be able to. I can startto feel the unravelling process begin. Things have to change, but in time? I don't know.

"Judgement Day" ... With A Twist

Tomorrow (Monday, November 02) my board (Pastor Parish Relations Committee - PPRC) meets to decide whether or not to invite me back for a 10th year. This group is controlled by a few people that don't want me here. They have tried to have reassigned for the past 4-5 years, with no success. In order for the Bishop to consider moving me, they need to come up with a "ministry-related" reason. After trying diligently to come up with something, they can not. It does give me some satisfaction that, after all of these years, they can't come up with any problems in my ministry serious enough to get rid of me.

Keep in mind that 95% of the congregation wants me here; if not, at least they're not vocal. But this year I have a little surprise for them all. I am going to announce at the start of this meeting that I have asked to be relocated after the end of this year. I cannot work part-time ... let me rephrase that. I can't get by on part-time pay and no insurance. My boss (D.S) says that he can probably find me a full-time appointment, but we might have to relocate somewhere within the state.

Any way, at this upcoming meeting, after I make the announcement, I plan to talk very candidly, but in a Christian manner, about how I know what they have been trying to do to me. For instance, about six months ago, our church had a chance to join together with another area church in sharing a pastor (me). This would have come real close to solving our financial problem, and would have allowed me to stay on full time. However, this was voted down, and the reason was it would be too hard on the pastor. Now they want to go to a part-time pastor, which will be very hard on the pastor they want so to protect.

This is a real scary time for Connie and me. The only thing in our life that is certain is God. Everything else is up in the air. The things uncertain in our lives at this point are: my job, Connie getting her SS disability, paying our bills (especially medical), our house selling and the plan to move to Florida. Please keep us in your prayers. The strength of your prayers will certainly help to keep us going.

Thanks, and God bless!

More later,

wcsSr

What To Do ... What To Do ... What To Do ...

A big decision is about to be made and, if you know my track record and that I was the principle to make it, you'd question whatever decision I made. Hell, so would I. But this is one of those times that requires a decision that can't be reversed. I've made many bad decisions in my life, but this one feels right; of ourse, they didd, too.

With Connie's health problems, and her misery in dealing with the cold, snow and dreariness of an Indiana winter, it has become necessary for us to relocate to warmer climes. When we sell our house, we'll be able to use the equity to buy a place in a retirement in Florida Most come furnished with the previous occupants furniture, so taking furniture of our isn't necessary; we can replace with what we want when we get around to it.

This will be a crucial part of her therapy and recovery. Please keep us in your prayers.

Just When You Thought Things Couldn't Get Any Worse ...

My poor wife has gone through hell since her stroke last March, and the last thing she needed happened last Monday. While trying to move the trash can, it twisted and, in the words of the orthopedist, shattered her left wrist and sprained her back. She wasn't able to stand, so after crawling across the driveway and through the garage to the phone, she called and told me what had happened. I could tell in her voice that she was shocky, and after ending the call I drove the 35 miles home. On my way I called the local police, and they went and checked on her.

When I arived home, it was obvious that her wrist was broken. She didn't want to go to the doctor, so I agreed and recommended that we wait a while to see if it was actually broken. Her pain was almost unbearable for most of the evening and the next morning. Around 1:00 pm we decided to go to the emergency room, and they confirmed what we really knew; she had shattered her left wrist. Her left arm was put in a cast, and surgery scheduled for the next day to realign the bones and put in two pins. This was the first time that Connie had ever been under anasthesia, in surgery or even taken pain killer.

She sees this as a big setback in her recovery from the stroke. I spend most of my time reminding her that this is a temporary situation, we can continue with her therapy and she will not lose ground.

I am flying by tthe seat of my pants, having never experienced anything like this. I don' knoow what I should do, I just know what feel right, and that's wha we do. This is the steepest roller coaster ride I've ever been on, and I don't see any end in sight.

My prayer: "God, please don't let my mania or depression kick now, for neither one of us could stand it. Amen."

Winston