A Word from Rebecca Lutzer

Posted on April 10, 2011 by Margaret

I’ve always wondered what life would be like as a pastor’s wife, particularly when the pastor has thousands in his congregation. My good friend Rebecca, wife of Pastor Erwin Lutzer of Moody Church, agreed to share a few thoughts on this subject in tonight’s blog.

“I’ve been a pastor’s wife for 35 years, and our family has had challenges like any other. ‘Living in a fish bowl’ produces its own unique stresses and demands. A dear older lady in our first pastorate told me, ‘Just be yourself.’ That was a little scary, but it turned out to be good advice.

“I grew up in the Dallas area in a dysfunctional family of extreme poverty but had a long-term dream of becoming a missionary nurse. God had a different plan, however, and I married a promising young professor/preacher. Because I’d told God I didn’t want to marry a pastor, I thought the Lord had made a mistake.

“Being shy and feeling inferior to other women, I was unprepared for the role and thought God was asking me to do the impossible. But in reality he was asking me to overcome these obstacles and learn to show hospitality, mercy and kindness to others.

“I struggled against the tendency to be like Martha in the New Testament, wanting everything to be just right for guests. I fretted over what others thought of my home and family, wondering how I could serve them with grace. Eventually I realized the state of my heart was more important than the state of my home, and I learned to set aside my Martha-tendencies and become more like Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet.

“There have been times when I’ve resisted God’s will for me. I’ve made mistakes and have had heart-struggles with stubbornness anger, doubt, ungratefulness and pride. Over the years God dealt mercifully with me, teaching me from Scripture that he ‘resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.’ (James 4:6) And how wonderful it is that he always forgives.

“Having a solid, strong, loving marriage doesn’t prevent disagreements, disappointments and misunderstandings. As with most marriages, we came from different backgrounds, birth orders, and personalities. We’ve learned to encourage each others’ successes and gifts, give each other space and time to grow, and cherish those traits that are endearing.

“Our lives haven’t gone exactly as we thought they would, and some of our hopes and dreams will never happen. We wouldn’t choose some of the experiences God had in mind for us, especially those involving pain and tragedy. But God works all these things together for good in our lives, and he always knows what’s best. The key to success in any marriage is being willing to deny our rights in order to serve each other. God wants us to forgive, even as we’ve been forgiven.

“Erwin and I have chosen a life verse to guide our marriage:

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

Looking Back, Part 2 of 2

Posted on April 9, 2011 by Margaret

Yesterday I shared three things I wish I could go back and do differently in reference to Nate’s 42 days of cancer. Here are six more.

My hope is that these will be of practical help for anyone currently traveling with a loved one on the difficult journey of terminal illness:

4. I wish I’d taken many more pictures of Nate before he got so physically depleted it was awkward to do so. With only six weeks of cancer, we had only three of acceptable picture-taking time.

5. By the time I realized I didn’t have all the answers about our shared paperwork and tax stuff, it was too late to get them. Confusion began to pepper our conversations unexpectedly, and we weren’t sure if what he was telling us was accurate. His help with answers to my brother’s questions about his law practice (and there were hundreds) was non-existent after day #25. It would have been a blessing to all of us to have concentrated on these questions almost immediately.

6. I regret not asking Nate, “Is there anything I’ve said or done that is standing between us and needs to be settled?” Of course I would need to have had thorough preparation by the Holy Spirit to be ready for his answer and the difficult discussion that might have followed. But this is a good question for any wife (or husband) to ask any time. It might be especially important as death is on the horizon.

7. Pulling out old photo albums would have been a rewarding way to use precious together-moments. Counteracting the darkness of terminal cancer, family pictures would have prompted laughter and light-hearted remember-when’s. During those moments when neither of us knew how to cope, it would have been a welcome lift from miserable circumstances.

8. When we say goodbye to any loved one, whether it’s after a shared meal or a week’s vacation together, we usually make it a point to say thank you. When we’re about to say goodbye because of death, thank you’s are doubly important. I wish I’d thought back to the endless kindnesses Nate had shown me, then talked about them, thanking him again and again. It would have made for sweet conversation.

9. As soon as we discovered Nate was not going to live much longer, I viewed him as fragile and touched him accordingly. Looking back, it would have been lovely to have had more husband-wife time in private during the early days. I didn’t realize how quickly there would be other eyes and ears in the room helping us, but also watching and listening, making intimate moments impossible.

More and more I find myself looking forward, but I hope this look back can be useful to someone who’s still in the middle.

“The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.” (Psalm 121:8)

Looking Back, Part 1 of 2

Posted on April 7, 2011 by Margaret

I’ve always admired people who are future-focused, particularly older people. I remember Stuart Briscoe saying, “I’m in my 70’s now, and most of life is behind me. My continual temptation is to think backwards, but I’m fighting that. God still wants me to look to the future.”

My Aunt Joyce was another example of being future-focused. She called from California one day when she was 91, concerned about my mom’s health. Half way through the conversation she said, “I apologize for talking a little funny. I’m bleaching my teeth.” I loved that she was still looking toward the future.

Grieving the death of a spouse virtually always includes a long period of looking back, because in our sorrowful state, going back to those last weeks and days somehow keeps us emotionally linked with those we so recently lost. Besides, looking forward is scary, while looking back is familiar.

Although I’m not focusing backwards with the same frequency or fervency I once did, from this vantage point I see it was healthy and healing to do that. It was part of what helped me accept the sad truth. When my mind said, “I just can’t believe he’s gone!”, looking back told me, “It’s true. He’s gone.”

It’s been 17 months since Nate died, but I had to stop to count them up, unlike earlier days when I always knew. Now, when I mentally revisit Nate’s 42 days of cancer, his death scene, the wake and funeral, it’s not as difficult, not as sad. As a matter of fact, when I look back now, one of the things I do is analyze how we did and didn’t handle things well.

So, for families currently living through the heartbreaking days of terminal disease, I share below what I’ve learned (three things today, the rest tomorrow):

1. We knew of Nate’s impending death for 42 days, and we got to day #27 before we first talked about heaven. It was day #30 before Nate mentioned his fear of the pain that might come just before the end. I wish I would have broached these subjects earlier, especially the topic of heaven. Talking over the delights of what awaited him, as well as leaving earthly suffering behind, would have lifted his spirits.

2. I didn’t realize how quickly mental exhaustion would overwhelm Nate’s ability to converse and think, or to want to be part of his bustling, noisy family. He sequestered himself far more rapidly than I thought he would, at a faster pace. Even while sitting in the midst of us, he wasn’t always “there”.

3. I wish I’d known how quickly physical fatigue would overtake him. The day we scheduled his last visit with our pastor, he was too tired to participate in the conversation. Nate’s last visit to his law office came within a hair of being cancelled. He wasn’t sure he could stand long enough to ride the elevator to the 13^th floor and didn’t want to use the wheelchair. He made it, but it took every ounce of stamina he had left. Had I known, we would have gone earlier.

Tomorrow I’ll share six more suggestions for those of you who are walking the difficult path of terminal illness.

“No one knows when their hour will come.” (Ecclesiastes 9:12)