Mid-Life Crisis

When I turned 50, I had my mid-life crisis. What would I do with my life now? All I ever wanted to do since I was a young teen was to be a minister in a church. Now that was taken away from me. So I thought about what I enjoyed doing: research, public speaking and helping people. Ever since the time I spent with the lawyer during the lawsuit at the church in Jacksonville, I had the idea of pursuing a career in law in some way. So I made up my mind to go to law school. I had already had my share of degrees, a bachelor degree in religion, a master's of divinity in biblical languages and a doctor's degree in pastoral ministries. Even though I had been in school for much of my life, I decided to go to law school. At 50, in the summer of 2008, I began my studies at The Birmingham School of Law. At the time I was employed as a hospice chaplain during the day and attended law school 3 nights a week. It was difficult going back to school. I received my Doctor of Ministry degree in 1993. Now, some 15 years later I was once again a student. I can't tell you how many times I asked myself what on earth was I doing. People don't usually begin law school at 50. But I did...and I actually graduated in 4 years. I wasn't in the top of my class and still have to pass the Bar, but I have my Juris Doctor degree.

During those years several significant things took place.

Medically I had several scares. One took place while I was still at MBBC. During an X-Ray a dark spot showed up on my liver. I was put in the hospital for further tests. All signs pointed toward cancer. But after further tests, cancer was ruled out. It was just a shadow. While I was in the hospital thinking I was dying of cancer, my dad was in a Tampa hospital. He had a very rare platelet disease, TTP. He died while I was still hospitalized.  Several years later, I had another scare. After heart tests, I was told that my heart was enlarged and all of my valves were leaking. A friend of mine who was a surgeon turned pale when he heard what I was dealing with. But when they put a camera in my chest to look at my heart, everything was normal. God had some reason to keep me alive. What the reason was, I still don't know.

After my father died, my mother lived in an apartment with my youngest sister. My dad did not leave my mom financially destitute. He had a life-insurance policy and she had his pension as well as Social Security. I did not have any worries that she had the means on which to live. Then, one day, she called me asking for grocery money. I told her that she should have plenty to live on. Then she told me that her bank account was empty. I decided to check into it. She was right. She had no money. It seems that some of my siblings visited the ATM several times a week and had taken all of her money for their drug habits. I visited her and went through her records to confirm this. It was then that I decided to take over her finances. I placed her in an assisted-living facility, got Power of Attorney, and had her pension and Social Security checks sent to me. I paid her bills and sent her a monthly allowance for her cigarettes and other needs. I continued to do this until she died. I had to move her to several different facilities because she would often wear out her welcome. I was also able to get her on Medicaid. Since my dad was a veteran of the Korean War, the VA said they would pay part of her assisted-living bill. They did this for several years. Then one day I received a letter stating that they should never have paid

anything, and that she would have to pay back all the money they had paid. I wrote and called the VA, as well as her Congressman. But it was to no avail. So the VA took several hundred dollars out of her Social Security check every month until they got their money back. It seemed like a nightmare at first, but if they had not done that she would not have qualified for Medicaid. So it actually turned out for the good.

I received a call one day from my sister telling me that mom had lung cancer that had moved to her brain stem. I was told that she had only a few days to live. My oldest son, Ben, and I left on New Year's eve for Tampa. Mom had told the doctors that she didn't want chemo or radiation treatment. They moved her to a hospice facility. She was alert when we arrived. After a few days I found out the doctor was giving her chemo meds. I pulled the doctor aside and reminded her that my mom had specifically told them no treatment. After being with her for 14 days, she died. It was on the night of the NCAA football championship game. I was in the living room of the hospice house watching the game. Something...Someone/God...told me to go to her room. Ben was in there reading. I said "Ben, come over here. She is about to take her last breath." Then she breathed twice and died. Ben and I held each other and cried. I called my brothers and sisters, Anne and Alex, and let them know mom had died. Her service a few days later was officiated by the hospice chaplain. I had asked him to do it. I spoke at my father's service, I couldn't officiate mom's funeral. There wasn't much good that I could say.

When I arrived back in Birmingham and tried to go back to work in my job as a hospice chaplain, I found that I could no longer do the job. My supervisor was very patient and supportive. I worked as best I could for several months but it was too difficult. I was forced to resign. Again, I found myself out of work. I was still in school. I searched for other work and eventually got a job with a law firm as a Title Specialist. I tried my hardest to do the work, but between bad training and problems with my short-term memory, I was let go.

It became very clear to me that since the debacle at MBBC, I was angry with God. I could not understand how the God who had called me to the ministry would let it be taken away just like. How could he let evil win? How could he have called me, prepared me, and seen me and been with me  through so many situations and years of ministry, just to let it be taken away from me? Anne tried to get me to see that God still had a place for me and that he hadn't given up on me and I shouldn't give up on him. I was too hurt (and too stubborn) to listen. I also knew that I was damaged goods. It would take a miracle and a special church to bring me back into doing ministry. My confidence was gone. I felt defeated and useless. Anne continued to pray and encourage me.

F.E.A.R.

I shared a quote from Zig Zigler with my counselor:

FEAR = Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise. She loved it! I have spent the majority of my years doing the first thing...Forget Everything And Run. I have forgotten by repressing my difficult memories. I have lived without facing my past. Now my past is affecting everything. It controls me. It has caused the failure of my last 3 jobs. It has placed a heavy burden on my family. It has weakened my faith in God. Now I find myself at 55, jobless and without any idea what path I should take. Should I find a job, or accept disability payments?

This week I received call to tell me that 2 appointments have been set up for me with 2 doctors to help make a decision concerning being eligible for disability. One doctor is a general practitioner and one is a clinical psychologist. My counselor told me to tell the CP about my childhood and MBBC and the PTSD...also the multiple hits to the head and resulting concussions. Dad knocked me unconscious at least twice. Once with a wooden plank. I fell and

slid on the street after falling off of my bike, cutting my ear half-off. I did not wake up from that fall until I was in the car on the way to the hospital. On one of my many youth trips, riding on a bus, an amplifier fell out of the upper storage bin and hit me on the head knocking me out. While in seminary, riding in the front passenger seat of a car, we hit a truck coming from the other direction. My head hit the windshield and cracked it, again knocking me out. When I was 4 or 5, a neighbor boy threw a brick at me, almost putting my eye out, once again knocking me out. I have had stitches to close up wounds on my head at least 5 times. I don't know if this is the reason for my double-vision and dizziness or not.

I sat down recently and wrote a letter to my boys. I wanted to explain to them why I am not working, and what is going on.

Letter to boys -  May 2013

Ben and Alex,

I know family life has been difficult for you, especially the past 8 years, which should have been enjoyable and meaningful years for you. I never really told you what happened to me at Mountain Brook Baptist. It began while I was pastor of the church in Jacksonville, Florida. I had served Mountain Brook as Associate Pastor before Murray Hill Baptist in Jacksonville. While I was in Jacksonville I got a call from JM, SR Pastor. He said the church wanted me to come back to Mountain Brook Baptist (MBBC). They created a new position for me as Minister. I was told by JM that he would retire in 2 years. I was told that he and I would work together in leading the church. He gave me many promises that he never intended to keep. We moved back to MB.  My 6 years working there were filled with highs and lows. The high points were the preaching and pastoral care duties. I loved the people and they loved me. But then I hit a brick wall in JM. Although we were supposed to be a team, I had no authority...no say in any important decisions. Many of the church members saw me as their pastor, because I was the one with them in the hospital, during surgeries, or deaths. So JM knew he had to get rid of me. He changed my original job description 5 times, until he gave me a job description that no one could fulfill. I was put in charge of pastoral care, meaning I had the responsibility to be in the hospitals every day and at every surgery. But he also put me in charge of the church building, which meant I oversaw the cooks, custodians, and Day Care. This job required me to be at the church everyday trying to run things. So you see what he did, I had to be in the hospitals everyday...and I had to be at the church running things everyday. He gave me an impossible job so that he could get me fired. Since he ran the church, he got what he wanted and I resigned. No one would listen to my side.  I was helpless and my life went into a downward spiral. What I had worked for all of my life, my very identity was taken from me. I tried to find another church, but they always asked why I had to resign from MBBC. JM and the personnel committee made me sign a letter stating that I would not tell anyone why I left MBBC. Other churches were wary about hiring me since I couldn't tell them why I left my last church. So, I believed my life was over. I went into a deep depression. But what the thing with JM did was open up very old wounds from my childhood. You see, my dad physically abused me. Almost everyday he would beat me either with his fists, pieces of wood, belt, boards... . When I tried to block his fists from hitting me in the face, it only made him more angry. I have talked with some of my siblings. They knew nothing about it. I was the only one that dad physically abused. My mom told him one day that if he didn't stop hitting me, she would leave him. That was the only time she stood up for me. Dad did not stop the abuse and mom didn't care. She was usually out of it on drugs anyway. Dad and I had a better relationship when I got older and moved away...but he never apologized for his abuse. I have physical scars on my head where he would hit me with a board and knock me unconscious. I lived in a family of eight, but I was all alone and dreaded every night when dad came home. At times I thought "just get the beating over with so that I can go to my room".

What happened at MBBC opened up all of those childhood feelings of weakness and

helplessness. The childhood abuse was always a shadow over me, then after MBBC those feelings came back with a vengeance. I spent the next few years being numb, depressed, even suicidal. My job performance  with hospice and the law firm were affected greatly by my deep depression. And I know that you were both affected by it.

I have been diagnosed with PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Usually soldiers coming back from military service have PTSD. But victims of abuse can also have PTSD. And I do. I am going through weekly treatment for it. The treatment is very intense and difficult. I usually cry through most of my sessions because it is bringing back memories that I had blocked out. I don't remember but  4 or 5 things from earlier than 12th grade. But when I go through my weekly sessions and I am hooked up to the monitor I remember the abuse as if it took place yesterday. I feel the pain. That is why I am in bed some days. The Dr. said I would have days of deep depression. Mother's Day and Father's Day are  hard for me because my mom was never a mother to me. We had to take care of her, she never took care of us. And of course I had a father who beat me almost everyday and even knocked me out. I had to have stitches in 2 places where he hit me.

Let's talk about the present. I am not working. I have worked my whole life since I was 12. I payed my own way through college, bought my own clothes...My parents gave me nothing, not even their love, until I became an adult.

I want to work. I want to be able to wake up and get dressed and go to a job I enjoy and bring home the money we need. That is my greatest desire now...to take care of my family like I was able to for many years.

My counselor does not think I am ready to go back to work. With the PTSD and my Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy and also the doctor tells me that I have had more blunt head trauma than most quarterbacks. I have had 5 concussions. It has affected my memory and probably is what caused me to have double vision.

My counselor says that my therapy is my work for the time being. She recommended that I go on Disability. I fought it for a long time because I don't want to be disabled. But she says that I am the poster-child for Mental and Physical Disabilty. So I have applied for it. I should know something in a month or so.

That doesn't mean that I will always be on Disabilty. I dream a lot about pastoring a full-time church again. Or I my work in the law field. I don't know what the future holds. But I wanted you to know where I am right now and what has caused my behavior over the past 7 or 8 years. I know that, because of my problems, you did not have a happy childhood. Things weren't normal in our house. I want to apologize for robbing you of your childhood. If I could go back and change things I would in a heartbeat. But know this: (I'm crying as I write this)...Know that I have always loved you and will always love you. You have both turned into young men that I am proud of, despite of what problems I caused. You're mom had to take on double duty because of my mentally absent years.

I wasn't diagnosed with PTSD and Major Depressive Disorder until recently, I wish I had dealt with it years ago, so that we could have given you the childhood you deserved.

The good thing is that I am finally, at 55  years old, doing something about my PTSD and depression. I will get better.

I love you both, Dad

One of the things I have enjoyed in my life is camping. I would often take a few days here or there and go tent-camping at a State Park. And wouldn't you know it, I somehow got Lyme disease. I saw a doctor in Mobile, Alabama for it. He helped me in many ways. However, when he changed one of my medications, I found myself in the psychiatric ward of a local hospital. I was under a Dr's and a psychologist' s care after leaving the hospital. I still am. The psychologist I am seeing now diagnosed the PTSD. Because of what JM did to me, the feelings and effect of my childhood abuse came roaring back. I am seeing my therapist weekly for very intense counseling, and EMDR ( Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). Again, I turn to Wikipedia: EMDR ) is a psychotherapy developed by Francine Shapiro, which emphasizes disturbing memories as the cause of psychopathology and alleviates the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). EMDR is used for individuals who have experienced severe trauma which remains unresolved. When a traumatic or distressing experience occurs, it may overwhelm normal cognitive and neurological coping mechanisms. The memory and associated stimuli are inadequately processed, and stored in an isolated memory network. The goal of EMDR therapy is to process these distressing memories, reducing their lingering effects and allowing clients to develop more adaptive coping mechanisms. This is done by having clients recall traumas while following the therapist's hand movement.

When I was asked to leave MBBC, all that I had worked for in my life was over. Everything was taken away from me. My identity, my passion, my calling, was taken from me. I tried to find new places of service in a few churches, but it is hard to find a church job if you don't have one. The churches I was talking with wanted to know why I wasn't presently serving a church. I told them what I could, but I know they must have had questions in the back of their minds wondering why I wasn't employed by a church.

When I turned 50, I had my mid-life crisis. What would I do with my life now? All I ever wanted to do since I was a young teen was to be a minister in a church. Now that was taken away from me. So I thought about what I enjoyed doing: research, public speaking and helping people. Ever since the time I spent with the lawyer during the lawsuit at the church in Jacksonville, I had the idea of pursuing a career in law in some way. So I made up my mind to go to law school. I had already had my share of degrees, a bachelor degree in religion, a master's of divinity in biblical languages and a doctor's degree in pastoral ministries. Even though I had been in school for much of my life, I decided to go to law school. At 50, in the summer of 2008, I began my studies at The Birmingham School of Law. At the time I was employed as a hospice chaplain during the day and attended law school 3 nights a week. It was difficult going back to school. I received my Doctor of Ministry degree in 1993. Now, some 15 years later I was once again a student. I can't tell you how many times I asked myself what on earth was I doing. People don't usually begin law school at 50. But I did...and I actually graduated in 4 years. I wasn't in the top of my class and still have to pass the Bar, but I have my Juris Doctor degree.