Lilly Would!

Dillon was beyond excited as he turned the nose of his green 1974 Plymouth Valiant south on the freeway. The early Spring Day brought a cloudless sky and temperatures in the low seventies; a perfect day to roll down the windows and enjoy the wind on his face. The Chrysler 318 cubic inch V-8 jumped ahead as the car accelerated past the seventy miles an hour speed limit. Dillon didn’t care. It would take him three hours to get home, but the drive was almost all Interstate. And anyway, the time would be well spent as he reflected on what had just happened at the little church out in the country.

The red brick sanctuary wasn’t exactly in the wild wood, but it did stand directly across from a fenced in field complete with mooing cows and neighing horses. The nearby rural community of Vista boasted a population of only seven-hundred-fifty people and was thirty miles south of a major Southern city. But again, Dillon wasn’t worried. More than a hundred people attended the Sunday morning service, and Dillon was gifted with a certain optimism.

It took more than twenty miles for Dillon to realize that he had gone the wrong way on the interstate, and another ten to find an exit so he could turn around and head the right way. Such a mistake was not unusual for him, but Dillon didn’t care. The church had offered to make him its pastor. At the age of forty-five, after spending twenty years as an enlisted man in the Air Force, and six and a half years of Bible College and seminary, it was about time. At least, that was Dillon’s take.

He had preached his first sermon almost twenty-two years before and wondered still why the Lord had waited so long to put him on the front lines. He was more than ready to make a difference. After all, had not God gifted him to handle the word? Had not God called him to this work? Had not God confirmed Dillon’s gifts and calling through the church? Dillon was sure that Pastor Jack Nelson would preside over his ordination service, and he could hardly wait to ask him.

But in the midst of his euphoria, a nagging thought repeatedly arose in his mind despite his frequent attempts to suppress it. Had that lady on the pulpit committee really told him he would never measure up? What was she expecting of him? She had qualified her statement by bringing up Dillon’s predecessor, Alex.  “Alex and I were close. There is no chance you will ever measure up to his ministry here, no matter what you do!”

Showing his naiveté, Dillon didn’t pay much attention to such unreasonable ramblings. Nevertheless, the thought that such a statement was a problem surfaced in his head even as he braked for the turnaround and headed home. Better to put it out of his mind, to ignore such an absurd statement than to dwell on things he couldn’t control. For now, Lilly Preston and her expectations would be left to simmer on the back burner.

The Reverend Jack Nelson was something of a mentor for Dillon, though not in any formal way. Dillon had first heard Jack speak at special services in a church some fifteen years earlier while Dillon was still a member of the United States Air Force. Ten years later, after moving again, Dillon and his family joined Jack’s church. It was there that the Davis family and the Nelson family began to interact. Jack and his wife Marsha had come alongside Dillon and Suzanne during a particularly difficult medical procedure Suzanne experienced. That event cemented the relationship for the next several years. The two families’ children had become friends, and the two couples were known to spend time together. As their relationship grew, it was Jack who invited Dillon to accompany him on hospital visitations.

These visits made a lasting impression on Dillon as Jack demonstrated a sincere and deep affection for his flock in times of severe distress. Dillon stood with Jack at the bedside of a

dying saint who was barely able to breathe. Bending close, Jack softly began to sing the first verse of Amazing Grace. Just the hint of a smile formed on the lips of Jack’s stricken parishioner. A gleam in her eye told Dillon that the heartfelt prayer which followed truly ministered to the elderly saint confined to the bed in front of him. Jack’s comforting manner, his prayer, and especially his ability to connect through song really impressed Dillon. It was a lesson Dillon would not soon forget. Dillon felt especially honored when Jack agreed to preach, and to lay hands on him at his ordination service.

The little country church which seated 150 was packed. Dillon stood at the altar as Jack Nelson asked him the 8 Questions for Ordination, the last of which was: “Are you now willing to take the charge of this church?  And do you, relying upon God for strength, promise to discharge to it the duties of a pastor?”

After Dillon’s heartfelt affirmation was on the record, Jack turned to the congregation – they too answered questions. The gist was that they would support Dillon in his ministry and provide for his livelihood.  

Having heard the chorus of affirmations from the people, Dillon knelt at the front of the church.

3 other pastors and 2 elders from sister churches in the same denomination, and 3 of his soon to be own elders circled him and laid hands on him. All had at least a finger or a piece of a hand on Dillon’s head and back as Jack and each of the three pastors prayed for his upcoming ministry. As Dillon then stood, the elders each offered Dillon the right hand of fellowship, wishing him Godspeed as they filed past him and took their seats to await the biblical charge to Dillon and his people.

Now, Jack stood in the pulpit of Vista Presbyterian Church with a mandate to explain the biblical relationship expected between Dillon and his congregation. Dillon listened with rapt attention to Jack’s charge to him. “Dillon, it is vital for you and the people you shepherd to keep short accounts with God and with each other.” Jack explained the importance of a biblical transparency over sin. Both Dillon and the congregation were responsible for living genuinely repentant lives before God and each other. Failing to do so would negatively impact the church’s ministry and potentially destroy Dillon’s relationship with his church.  After praying once more for Dillon and the church, Jack dismissed everyone to a reception for the new pastor in the fellowship hall.

Lilly Preston and her husband Jeff were among the first to greet Dillon as he entered the tastefully decorated fellowship hall and its tables filled with an assortment of homemade cookies and pies, breads and meats, cakes, and gallons of Southern sweet tea – all of which were, in Dillon’s estimation at least, to die for.

Lilly and Jeff, now in their 70s cornered Dillon with offers of Lilly’s special chocolate chip cookies pressed into a bowl of butter pecan ice cream on the one hand, and a plate overflowing with deli-meats and homemade bread on the other. “Sweet or savory, pastor, I’ve got both if you want.” Even as he accepted the meat plate, Dillon couldn’t get Lilly’s words that he wouldn’t measure up out of his head.  Lilly droned on. “Jeff and I spent time in Africa after Jeff retired from the university and before we ended up here at the mission headquarters over in Pike County.”

Lily continued for about ten minutes relating her and Jeff’s experiences on the field before taking a breath. Lilly had suffered from depression and had begun taking medication under a doctor’s care which left her droopy eyed and sleepy looking most of the time. Her affliction, according to Lilly had led to her having to leave the field and return to the US before she was ready. Jeff, more candid by nature, admitted that the reason he and Lilly left the field had more to do with a conflict between Lilly and the doctor who was trying to help with her medical issues than with any diagnosed medical problem.  In any case, their service had not ended on a high note. They were asked to leave the field when conflict erupted between Lilly and a mission leader. Mild mannered Jeff, who was an engineer by trade, said he was heartbroken,  but used to the consequences resulting from his wife’s occasional bullying of those in authority over her. Now in retirement, the couple volunteered at the nearby mission’s headquarters, and lived in a community made up almost entirely of missionary personnel who provided stateside support for the mission’s overseas outreach.

As Dillon politely backed away, turning to speak with his 5-year-old daughter, who was tugging at his sleeve, Dillon was beginning to wonder if these two might just be a problem for him going forward. He was sure Lilly would!