PEGGY, MY TEACHER

Peggy, only 16, but is a college freshman. (The reason she’s in college at 16 is due to a complicated set of circumstances related to enrollment in a Hong Kong British school.) As I walk into the family room of our St. Louis home I see her sitting on the floor. She is crying, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Peggy, what’s wrong?” I inquire.
“I’m crying because of what you said, Dad.”
“What did I say that makes you cry?”
“You said that you had reached the peak of your career. That from now on you would have no opportunity to make a difference on this planet. That it seemed like life was more or less down hill from here.”

I don’t know if Peggy was quoting me accurately. I do know that she was exactly reflecting my belief about my future. I had just resigned my significant position at the top offices of a major Lutheran denomination. I was in conflict with what I saw as a fundamentalist take-over of the Church. I disagreed with new official documents on the role of women, prayer with other Christians, literal interpretation of Scriptures. I had accepted no other job but I knew that I could not serve with integrity in the position I had held. I had concluded that any other job I might ever take would not match the one from which I had just resigned.

Peggy spoke, “Dad, you have many gifts. There are lots of people and places that respect your integrity, experience and ability. I don’t know where we’ll go from here but this is not the end of your ministry. God is not done using you. There is still so much to look forward to.

It was then that I burst into tears. We hugged and let our tears mingle.
Peggy was right.