Family Secrets 14

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Craig remembered the first time fondly. Honestly, there had been lots of first times. The very first time, in high school, with the beautiful green-eyed, dark-haired girl he’d dated for two years.

Then, the first time in college. The first time in a car. The first time in the dorms. The first time he cheated on his wife. The first time with a married woman. His first time as a pastor.

There was one first time, the one after he first got married, that time still sent shivers down his spine and made him as hard as a horny teenager.

After the first intern, he swore he’d never cheat on Melissa again. What was her name, he wondered idly, as he thought about her smooth skin. Emily, yes, sweet Emily. Unfortunately, after young, sweet Emily, there were more first times.

It turned out, the first times were almost always the best.

Craig often replayed first times in his mind. In the shower as he got ready for work. In his office after Melissa snored soundly. In his church office before Sandy got to work. The first times excited him the most. He always wanted more first times.

After sweet Emily, there were other, unplanned interns. Craig seemed to get assigned the cute, young coeds. He didn’t ask for them. They showed up unexpectedly, to his great delight.

Every time, he promised himself he’d behave. He’d remind himself that he was a happily married family man. He’d masturbate in the shower to remove temptation. Unfortunately, those hot showers only stirred his libido to higher levels.

At some point, usually near the end of the internship, Craig would find himself in a compromising situation. Every time, he gave in to the sensuous temptation of beautiful young women.

He never said no. He always enjoyed more first times.

The first time as a pastor, Craig swore to himself and to God that he would put that behavior behind him. He promised never to do it again. He begged God for forgiveness.

When the widow came to his office for counseling, together they explored first times. It started off innocently enough, but in the end, he gave in to more first times.

She was a middle-aged mother of two. Her husband raced nitro cars on weekends. One fateful weekend, his safety parachute failed to deploy and he died almost instantly as his car crashed at the end of the drag strip. His devastated family witnessed the crash.

The Smith family had belonged to The Seeker Church since its inception. John always shared a friendly smile and a bear hug with newcomers. He could always be counted on to do the heavy lifting. He was a large, jovial man, who jumped in to serve at every opportunity. He never had a cross word for anyone.

Susan emitted joy. Her smile, her mannerisms, her attitude were infectious. She too was boisterous, fun and helpful. Until John died. After the freak accident, things were never the same.

She continued homeschooling their two teens. They were close in age to Claire and Rachel. Craig tried to involve the grief-stricken family in their own family events, but it always felt strained.

Melissa and Susan got along fine, but the children never seemed to have anything to talk about. Their occasional family get-togethers usually ended prematurely after the kids found nothing to say or do together.

Pastor Bill suggested that Susan see Craig for one-on-one counseling. Bill told Craig that his compassion and empathy would help the new widow feel heard and cared for. He wanted Craig to take on more responsibility in the church as their body grew in number. Bill couldn’t possibly keep up with everyone who needed help, and Craig needed to grow in his own ministry.

“What about their kids?” Craig wondered.

“They don’t want to talk to anyone. They just want their dad back. I thought maybe you could work with Susan to help her manage her grief and loneliness. Once she begins healing, maybe you can help the children.

“I was hoping your families could find some common ground to offer them support, love and encouragement. They have plenty of money, thanks to his investments and a large insurance policy. I think they’ll stay on the family farm for a while, until she can sort through the tragedy and figure out what she wants to do.”

Craig agreed to take her on. Up to now he had mainly counseled young married couples and families with troubled teens. With no experience at grief counseling, Craig decided to read as many books as he could before their first appointment.

Nearly a month after the loss of her husband, Susan came to Craig’s office for her first appointment. Well-armed with recently acquired knowledge, but lacking in any practical experience Craig welcomed her into his space.

His office at the church was large. It had been the former Episcopal pastor’s office. When The Seekers moved into the building, Bill preferred the smaller, more private and quieter office upstairs.

There were three small offices down a narrow hallway at the top of the dark staircase. Bill took the farthest from the stairs because it had large windows overlooking the parking lot on one side and a park on the other.

He’d suggested that, as the church grew, other pastors or counselors could join him in the other two offices. So far, only Craig had ascended to a role of pastor and now, to counselor.

In his downstairs office, Craig had a large desk directly across from the door, In front of the desk, two uncomfortable leather office chairs squatted side by side.

On his side of the desk, a large office chair with wheels sat flanked by two stately bookcases. One was filled with hymnals, worship music and various sheet music. The other contained a variety of Bibles, a copy of The Koran, an inscribed copy of the Mormon scriptures, containing the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants and The Pearl of Great Price. Besides these texts, he also had copies of the Tao Te Ching, several annotated biblical study guides and several books on family counseling. The bookshelves seemed ready to vomit knowledge all over the room.

Along one wall, windows looked out past the church grounds and unkempt juniper bushes to a city park. The playground in the park was old and in need of repair, but the view wasn’t bad. Behind the park in the distance, the mountains were nearly visible.

On the other wall, a large brown leather couch, two large comfortable chairs and a coffee table made up a small, cozy nook. One chair displayed a quilt that Melissa had made. On the table were several copies of Guide Posts, Christianity Today, and Charisma. Although they appeared to be haphazardly scattered across the table, Craig strategically fanned them out in different arrays every week.

He sat at his desk on Friday afternoon, awaiting Susan’s appointment. Just before two, Sandy knocked lightly on his door.

“Pastor Newell, your two o’clock appointment is here. Shall I have her wait?”

Sandy’s formality inflated Craig’s ego. He loved feeling respected. He smiled magnanimously at the secretary and glanced at the clock.

“Please send her in, Sandy. I’m ready.”

As she left, Craig stood up behind his desk, tried to look professional by clasping his hands behind his back. His nerves jangled and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Dropped them by his side.

Instead of his usual jeans and button down shirt, today he wore slacks and a neck tie. He wanted Susan to feel secure and comfortable. Inside, he felt insecure and uncomfortable.

This was a first for Craig. He never felt ill-equipped. But this was the first time he’d ever offered grief counseling to anyone.

Susan came in quietly, looking at the floor. Formerly a loud and vibrant woman, her entire demeanor had changed with the loss of John. Her dark hair hung in drab strings down her back. Her clothes hung like sheets on a Halloween skeleton. She appeared a shell of the woman she once was. It seemed that John had animated her and now she was just a shell.

Craig strode across the room and closed the door.

“Welcome, Susan. Thank you for meeting with me. We want to help you and the kids work through this tragedy as best we can. John was a great man and his loss leaves a tremendous hole in all our lives.”

Craig offered her a gentle hug, then led her to the couch and chairs. Melissa had suggested he soften up the area with a couple of candles, but Craig felt concerned that candles would clutter his space and make it seem unprofessional.

Susan perched hesitantly on the edge of one leather chair and Craig settled into the other, leaning comfortably on Melissa’s quilt.

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” she said softly. “John and I had a beautiful, satisfying and fun marriage. In the twenty years we shared together, we never had a harsh or angry word. We never disagreed. We never needed counseling.

“Now I feel so lost. I don’t know how to go on without him. I don’t know if I want to go on without him. If it weren’t for the kids, I think I would have followed him into Jesus’ arms.”

Craig sighed deeply. He paused, to let her words fill the space. Privately, he highly doubted that anyone could spend twenty years with another person and never utter a cross word.

He and Melissa were about fifteen years into their marriage (he’d have to check that-now he was curious. As soon as Susan left, he’d look at the calendar) and they’d had plenty of angry exchanges.

There was never a sinner more terrible than an ex-husband, nor a saint more pious than a dead husband, he thought cynically.

The long, silent pause filled the room as Craig mused on the myth of John Smith. Craig knew the man to be a loud and boisterous guy. He and Susan seemed perfectly suited for one another.

But Craig wondered what the truth was. What did their life look like behind closed doors? What skeletons hid in their closets? What family secrets did they hold close?

Susan took a deep breath as tears slipped down her cheeks. Craig watched her cry and breathe, and wondered what exactly he was supposed to do.

He’d never counseled anyone like this before. Angry teens? Check. Disillusioned wives? Check. Angry divorces? Yep. He’d never personally needed counseling, and although he’d read several books and articles about Christian counseling, he found himself at a loss for words.

Susan seemed fine with him not speaking, so Craig settled back in his chair. Although he thought the term “holding space” for someone was a new-aged hippie idea, he did believe in giving the grieving widow some time to feel without needing to talk, if she didn’t want to.

After about five minutes, Craig said softly, “Susan, tell me how I can help you.” The only thing he could think to say.

“Well. I don’t really know, Pastor Newell. We’ve got plenty of money. The farm is a lot of work, but the kids seem to be keeping up with their chores. They don’t want to disappoint their dad, you know.

“I guess the hardest part for me is the loneliness. During all those years, we always ended the day wrapped in each other’s arms, going over the day, planning the next and the next and the next. Now, it’s just so quiet. I usually stay up late. Very late. I can’t bear the thought of that big, empty bed. John was such a presence in my life, you know? I miss him in a million small ways.”

Craig wondered how to respond. In all his years as a pastor, this would be one of his biggest challenges, knowing when to speak, when to listen and when to ask questions. Craig felt ill-equipped for the job. With no training, no counseling background and no experience, he realized that he might fail at this task.

Then, it occurred to Craig to pray. The one thing he’d actually proven he could do.

He slid forward on his chair.

“Susan, I’d like to pray with you. For you and your children. I’d like to ask God to show us where we can support you and help ease your burden. I’d like to ask God to pour his blessings over your family and over your life. And I’d like to ask for peace.”

“Would you feel comfortable joining me on the couch?” he asked.

Without a word, Susan nodded her head and moved to the center of the couch. Craig sat to one side and gently took her large hands in his.

He marveled, for a moment, at the size of her hands. They were nearly as big as his own. Her hands were dark, wrinkled and chapped with sun and wind and work. They were the hands of someone familiar with hard work. They were strong, noble hands.

He closed his eyes and did what he did best.

“Lord, we come to you today to lift up our dear sister Susan and her beautiful children. We know, Father, that you determined the time for John to return to you. Although we all think he left us too early, we know, Lord, that his life and all our lives are in your hands. We know that only you, Father, know the number of our days, and the measure of our lives.

“We thank you, Father, for John’s faithful service to your ministry and for Susan’s continued faithfulness and commitment to you and to raising her children up in the way they should go.

“Father, we ask today that you give the Smith household an extra measure of peace. That they fall asleep in your embrace and awaken to the sun rising in blessing over their household. We ask, Father, that you strengthen Susan for each day.

“You, Lord, know our struggles and our fears. Please grant our sister, Susan, an extra measure of peace, of grace and strength to endure each day without her faithful husband.

“You have said, Father God, that true Christianity is to care for widows and orphans, so I ask that you show each member of The Seeker Church how to bless, love and serve the Smith family. Put a message in each of our hearts, dear Lord, to give this beautiful family exactly what they need.

“Father, you know our weaknesses. I ask you to meet each of us where we are, and complete the work you’ve begun in us. We thank you, Father, for your presence, for your peace, and for your blessing. We ask these things in your son Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Tears flowed freely down both their faces as they sat on the couch, hand in hand, knee to knee, eyes closed and hearts open. Neither knew then, but both would learn, that they would experience more first times in Craig’s office.

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