And she died in jail

Of all the ministry stories I have shared with the young minister's who I've had the privilege of mentoring in some way, this is the one they have come back to most. Not only because it's just weird but I think because eventually they all come to know what it's like to have someone decide to come after you. It all started many years ago before I was even married. I was serving as the Minister of Youth and Music for a church in Denton, Texas. I had moved to Denton to be close enough to attend Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth. It's always hard to leave a successful thriving ministry to start over, especially if you are going to a place that is spiritually dry. This was the case with this church and in particular with this youth ministry. There were few students there and most of the ones that were there had a drug problem: "they were drug to church by their parents against their will." There were two boys in particular that were extremely rebellious and some bright person had decided that the way to deal with them was to make them the sound techs for the morning worship service. These teenage boys were given the keys to the sound booth and it became their own personal hideout/clubhouse. Obviously, as the minister of music I needed access to the room so I got my own key. When I entered the sound booth for the first time I was shocked to find the walls plastered with posters of acid rock bands of the era. In a fit of indignation I tore them off the walls and discarded them. (in my own mind it was like Jesus angrily cleansing the temple.) Well, one of the boy's moms did not see it that way. My youthful mistake was in not carefully removing them and notifying the families in a calm manner. When the boys discovered the posters were missing they went to this woman and complained. Suddenly she appeared. Out of nowhere on a Sunday morning, just before I was to lead worship- she verbally blasted me saying that what I had done was illegal because I stole their property. She later made it clear that no matter what it took, she would have my job. The next few months were brutal. This lady dedicated her life to destroying mine. She was able to stir up enough controversy to keep our youth ministry from bonding and when the pastor refused to check her divisive activities it spiraled out of control and I could see that it was time to leave. I have now been in full time ministry since the summer of 1975 and in all those 35+ years this is the only time I have been forced out of a position. I was devastated and called my dad often for counsel. Again and again, he urged me to simply leave quietly and trust God. He reminded me that God would not only take care of me but that the truth would eventually come out as to the character of this lady. I moved on from there to serve a church in Proper, Texas. And then it happened. On the front page of the Denton newspaper, it was reported that this lady was embroiled in controversy at her job as well and she had been indicted for embezzling tens of thousands of dollars from the Denton County Courthouse. She was later convicted and given a prison term. Early during that prison term she was diagnosed with cancer and died in jail. Now- I new better than to take any joy in her demise. It was truly a tragic situation. But, I was exonerated to some extent by the fact that these personal attacks were not about me. They were about bitterness in her heart that eventually leaked out into every arena of her life. In the years since, as I have shared this story there have been many who have drawn their own conclusions or lessons from it. Some have made reference to the fact that David refused to "touch God's anointed", others have focused on how bitterness can destroy your life. There are probably multiple lessons that could be gained from it but my main takeaway is my dad's lesson. Don't fight your own battles...leave that up to God. This story did come up in a curious way many years later. There was a young minister that I had mentored since his high school days and we eventually ended up serving on staff together. One night I was under attack at a church business meeting for a decision I had made in local missions. As I was sitting on the front row enduring this angry outburst I got a text at that moment from this young minister seated behind me it simply read: "and she died in jail." Knowing this young man well, I know it was his way of trying to encourage me in the heat of the moment. In truth, I realize that all of us will be attacked at some point and I do not believe that pastors enjoy any more or less protection than any othe believer. We are all, always under His watchcare. Only in heaven will we really see situations like this clearly in the light of eternity but there is one more punctuation God put on this whole situation. Although it was an extremely painful time for me and shook me to the core at such a young age in ministry- this was the church where I met Trinetta! And the rest is history!