Deacon

It was a few months after I’d arrived at my new church. I had a mixture of excitement and nervousness as I reviewed my sermon for the morning. I wanted to do well.

Minutes before I was about to enter the platform with the elders, a deacon called me over to tell me something. I thought he was going to say something like, “I’m praying for you today.” Instead he said, “Many of us don’t want you here. A woman shouldn’t be preaching. And not a divorced woman. You shouldn’t be a pastor.” Blinking back the tears that started to form, I said, “I’m sorry,” and I walked numbly onto the platform. As I started to sing the worship hymn God helped me to forget the mean-spirited comment, and to remember that it was His Spirit who called me.

A few Sabbaths later, it was communion Sabbath. (In Adventist churches, this is typically celebrated four times a year.) As soon as I walked into the church, this same deacon asked to talk with my husband and me. He said that he understood that a person should prepare for Communion Sabbath by making things right before participating. He apologized for his previous comments to me and humbly asked for our forgiveness.

Over the years, this deacon became one of my biggest advocates and he showed great love for my family, including letting my daughter know she was free to access the deacons’ stash of Brazilian candy.