This morning I attended my church for what I figured would be the second-to-last sermon that Bryant would give before leaving for McKinney TX at the end of the month. I actually attended in jeans. Unfortunately, it made me want to stick my tongue out at the rest of the congregation, which really wasn’t the point. Oh well.

Of course, I was extremely unprepared to hear Bryant preface his sermon by saying how much he loved everyone, and that he was sad this was his last Sunday here. Everything else was pretty much sharply downhill for me.

By the end of the sermon, I was openly weeping. I couldn’t help it. And, I had no tissues. Isn’t that just typical. Perpetually unprepared.

And, just to add salt to this wound I’ve been nursing from my church, a lady I’d never seen before leaned over in the pew and handed me - not one - but her entire purse-thingy of tissues. After I mopped up and the service ended, she introduced herself as Pat. We chatted about Bryant leaving for a few minutes, and then she looked at me, said, “Aw..” and gave me a huge hug. A really long one, the kind your mom gives you when you’re miserable and just had your heart broken.

The kind of hug I really needed today, but can’t seem to get from anyone.

I cried as I left the parking lot. I cried as I pulled into St. Louis Bread Co. I finally pulled it together enough to order my food, but I left the sunglasses on anyway.

Bryant’s very last sermon was during the evening service tonight. I dreaded walking in there… I knew my heart was already breaking.

I sat during the sermon, just watching Bryant. Hearing him finally point at my ever-so-wealthy congregation and tell them that if they are putting their faith in their wealth and material things, they don’t have a clue. I thought back to 1998, to figure out when Bryant had become such an important part of my life, and why I was so devastated to see him go.

I came to faith in Jesus Christ in approx. May of 1998. In June, I started attending Covenant and I went to the “Intro to Covenant” class that was being held that quarter. Bryant was teaching it. The first thing I noticed about Bryant was his energy and his cheerfulness. He was never tired. He always remembered my name. He was always happy to see me. He answered all of my questions patiently - and I had a ton.

He was the first embodiment of Jesus Christ that I ever encountered.

He was always available for appointments within days. Our head pastor is so busy that it takes three weeks to get in to talk to him. Bryant cares. He loves you in a contagious way that makes you walk away from him smiling.

The intro class ended in September 1998. In October, Bryant accompanied the Singles group to Pastor George’s cabin in mid-Missouri for our weekend retreat - my first ever. He ate our horrible food with us, laughed with us, taught us, sang with us, answered all our questions til late in the night (or should I say early in the morning?).

During the end of October, the whole church-Mike-thing blew up in my face. I walked up to Bryant after the 11am service and said, “I need to talk to you.” He said, 5:30pm, his office. At 5:30pm he invited me in, and I literally threw myself down on his sofa, slumped miserably, and said, “I am very pissed off right now.” Was he offended? No. Was he angry? No. He asked pointed questions, and wasn’t afraid to confront me where I was the one in the wrong.

And then, for the next month or so, he checked in on me.

In February, 1999, my grandma died. Bryant saw the notice in the newspaper, and called me at work to make sure I was okay.

In June, 1999 Mike started flitting in and out of my life. I went to Bryant for advice. He was kind and patient. But stern. I appreciated it.

In August, 1999, a gentleman with very few social skills and big heart started creeping me out by following me around, sitting by me, blocking my way in the halls at church when I wanted to leave, and basically continuously asking me out until I had to be a little rude to get him to understand that I sincerely meant “no.” After the fourth Sunday in a row of hiding in the restroom by the nursery until he left, I tentatively approached Bryant. “I know this is so ridiculous when you’re so busy,” I said. “I’m never too busy to help,” he replied.

The next week, I got a call from him. He’d spoken with this man, and had to be painfully direct with him, because the gentleman wasn’t getting it. But he finally told him, knock it off or you won’t be welcome here anymore. (He was a visitor and I was a member - and I don’t think the PCA likes to see their womenfolk harrassed, anyway.)

In November, 1999, Mike suddenly wigged on me in an e-mail and told me to not contact him again (which was weird, since I never initiated the contact after March 1999) and told me he would basically “tattle” on me to the PCA if I contacted him again. Infuriated and hurt, I called Bryant, since he knew all the bloody details of this stupid relationship-y thing. He was infuriated for me. He assured me Mike had no right to threaten me. He also assured me that Mike had so little credibility left in PCA circles that he would have a hard time finding a floor to speak on.

In January, a couple I was close to were having serious problems with their marriage. I recommended they call Bryant. And Bryant offered to meet with them once a week, at no charge (even though they weren’t even visitors of our church) to counsel them. They saw him for a while and really learned a lot, from what I’d heard.

In February 2000, Mike contacted me yet again. This time it was an entire weekend of ugly e-mails. One of the last he sent me was letting me know that he couldn’t get into a relationship with me (?) because of Jesus’ teaching on divorce and remarriage. I was shocked. What? For some reason, I’d never considered that. I called Larisa in the middle of the night Saturday night. She said, um, check with leadership. I cried all night. I called Audrey first thing Sunday morning. She said, ewww, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me about this. I’m not sure, check with Bryant.

Following that morning’s sermon, I tackled Bryant in the hallway. “What is the PCA’s official stance on divorce and remarriage?” I asked. He looked at me and said, “Michelle, make an appointment with me as soon as you can, and we’ll talk about it.”

That was a long couple of days. I prayed and prayed… what do I do? If the PCA holds to the stance that remarriage in my situation was unbiblical, do I respect their authority, or find a different church? I was torn. It’s not that I had any suitors or anything. It was the principal of the matter.

I met with Bryant, and he asked if I had anyone in mind. I said, no, but Mike … He rolled his eyes. I assured him that yet again, I hadn’t made the initial contact. The alarming thing was that Bryant said Mike may be right. The PCA may refuse to remarry me. He was forthright that this is the first case of divorce and remarriage that Covenant had ever dealt with, and he wanted to give it all the serious consideration that it warranted.

He interviewed me extensively about my marriage and subsequent separation and divorce, as well as my coming to faith. He never ever pushed me into answering any questions I was uncomfortable sharing the answers to… Then again, he already knew so much about my life, what’s left to hide?

He called me the next week to have me come in and answer more questions. Both of us had basically memorized 1 Corinthians 7. Finally he had me come in again and said that he’d approached two members of the session (elders) and confidentially, without revealing my name, sought their advice and prayer on this sticky situation. I laughed and rolled my eyes at Bryant. “Since I’m the only divorced single mom in the church, you might as well have told them it was me!” He laughed too.

He asked if Dan would be willing to come in and talk to him. I was doubtful, but I begged Dan and he went in.

I could tell the situation was plaguing Bryant. He even approached Mandy, my counselor and a member of our congregation, about it (in a roundabout way). As much as I was concerned about the final answer, I knew that God places men like Bryant in leadership for a reason. He would never act rashly.

Finally, on April 16th, nearly 6 weeks after first approaching him, Bryant called to ask me to come in to see him before the evening service. At that time, he sat me down, and said that after much prayer, meeting with the full session, meeting with me and meeting with Dan, he in good conscience could say that not only would the PCA remarry me, but he would have no trouble performing the ceremony himself. I nearly wept. I thanked him profusely, from the bottom of my heart, and ran out of his office. Audrey was standing there, waiting. I launched myself into her arms, crying and laughing. We spun around in the vestibule, laughing. People thought we’d lost our minds. But I knew better.

In September, I asked the church (on a little prayer-request card) for prayer regarding my depression worsening. The next day, I received a call from Bryant while I was at work. He wanted to know specifics, see what he could do to help me, what specifically he could pray for. He wanted me to keep in touch with him about the depression.

In December, I asked Bryant to call Max. Max needed to see that not everyone in church leadership was horrible. And Bryant actually called him. And they talked for quite a while. Max was very impressed with Bryant, and vice versa. I was very pleased. Healing was everywhere.

Bryant is a special, wonderful, godly man. I will forever miss his greeting every Sunday morning, “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Jesus Christ will definitely welcome him Home with a hearty, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

Tonight, after the evening service, I made my way to the front of the church. Bryant looked at me, opened his arms wide, and said, “Michelle…” I gave him a hug - a real one. He said, “I thought I saw you sitting over there this morning! I’ve missed you!” I told him how much I’d miss him. How much he meant to me. He said not to worry, he’d visit. I told him that a part of the heart of our church was leaving. “Maybe,” he said, “But we’re all a part of the Body…” He told me not to cry. I told him to have fun in Texas. Then we parted. And as I left Covenant, I couldn’t imagine actually going back without Bryant there.

Redeemer Church in McKinney, Texas doesn’t know how lucky they are.

Heartbroken,

michelle