Staff Notes

Loss – grief – change.  Cousins, all.  They follow one another like “And also with you” follows “The Lord be . . .” (do I even have to finish it?).

Let me tell you about Mr. Dunkle.  He is associated with one of my first memories of those three words impacting my life.  Mr. Dunkle was my music teacher, from fifth grade up into senior high.  He was also a friend.  He took me under his wing, taught me the proper way to breathe and sing, helped me understand diction in singing, and nurtured a love of music in me.  He led me to two district choruses, one state chorus and many opportunities to use this gift in service, both in church and in our community.

It was the summer going into my senior year when Mr. D told me that he wouldn’t be coming back to the high school next year.  He had felt a calling to do missionary work for the Church of the Brethren and would be going to Japan to teach music and English there.  I was devastated.  It was the year every student looks forward to, and one of my major mentors would be gone.  It was the biggest loss I had ever felt.

Although I didn’t have the words for it then, it was grief I was feeling.  Things were about to change, and I didn’t like it one bit.  There would be a new music director and I was President of the Glee Club and would need to work with her, while missing Mr. D.

So, as a result, I realized I had choices to make.  Do I continue singing in the chorus, or just quit?  Do I find a way to continue to use the gifts in music I was given and that Mr. D helped bring to light, or do I ignore those gifts, choose not to use them, and let them wither without the light of day?

You see, Mr. D left me with a choice.  Do I honor his legacy, dedication and love of music, or do I just stop my involvements in music, glee club, school musicals, and church choir?

But if I had done the later, I would have done more than lose Mr. D.  I would have lost all he taught, nurtured, stood for, and passed on.  I would have dishonored his memory and dismissed his legacy in my grief-reaction.

Do I need to spell out the parallels here to Trinity Lutheran Church?  You were served faithfully and with extreme excellence by a pastor for many years, who understood his calling to be the preaching and teaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  He accomplished that with dedication and passion.

And now, TLC has a choice, just like I did – to honor the legacy and see beyond the loss, or to dishonor his memory and forget “what” Pastor H preached, taught, and lived all those years, because the loss, grief, and change it brings are too much to face.

Is Trinity Lutheran Church different without Pastor Hardy?  Of course:   yes and no.  Yes, his presence, gifts and personality are surely and sorely missed.  But the Gospel is still being proclaimed, the sacraments are still faithfully presented, and the love of God is still being passed on through the many outreach ministries of this place.

So, my prayer for you:  that this shared mission will continue far into the future, so that new generations will hear of the love and grace of God known in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ.  I’ll do my part.  What choice have you made?