One of the benefits of serving as a pastor in an area for a lengthy period of time is that one gets to be part of the lives of people as they grow, mature, develop, and change. One also has the opportunity to walk with people during times of great joy as well as during times of great sorrow.

I first met Heather MacDonald some 20 years ago when she was a 16-year-old high school student. Tall, pretty, outgoing, and full of life, Heather was an instant hit as a babysitter for our three boys.

After graduation from high school, Heather decided to start a house-cleaning business. My wife determined that she needed some help keeping the house straight, so we were among Heather's first customers. Not only was Heather a good housekeeper, she was quite competent in ferreting out the occasional Playboy or Penthouse that one or the other of our teen sons would smuggle into the house. It seems that there were few hiding places where the contraband magazines would be safe.

It didn't take long before we "adopted" Heather. Oh, we really didn't actually adopt her, of course, but as the parents of three boys who were definitely "wild at heart," it was nice to have the civilizing presence of a young lady around. As far as we were concerned, we were her "second parents."

There were hazards to our relationship. One Friday, while Heather was still a single woman in her very early 20s, I was enjoying a rare day off and was home alone frying a bit of fish for lunch. Earlier in the day, I had taken my car to the shop for maintenance and the shop folks had brought me back home while they worked on the car. While I was frying, the cooking oil popped and splattered hot grease all over my shirt and trousers. I quickly removed the clothes, applied Spray and Wash, threw the clothes into the laundry room, and resumed frying the fish.

Heather, having left something in the house the previous day as she cleaned, drove to our house to retrieve whatever she had left behind. Seeing no cars, Heather assumed that no one was home, and, using the key we had provided, let herself into the house through the back door, which opened into the kitchen, where Heather saw me (her pastor) frying fish in my underwear. "Tighty-whiteys," she later called them. I yelled at Heather, tried to cover up, jumped around, turned beet-red, and fled into the laundry room. Heather picked up whatever she had forgotten and let herself out, laughing hysterically the entire time. By Monday, the entire church seemed to know about the incident and the youth pastor began to refer to me as the "galloping gourmet." My wife commented that she hoped the incident wouldn't turn Heather off marriage and men.

Later, I had the great joy of introducing Heather to Peachtree City Police Sgt. Chip Williams. I wept with joy when I married them and cried with a deep and horrible grief when Chip was killed. His funeral, which was attended by 600 people, remains the hardest funeral I have ever conducted. The sight of this wonderful, beautiful young widow expressing such loss and sorrow broke my heart. I wondered if she would ever smile again.

But she did. Some years later, she would meet Scott Haskin, who was attending our church, fell in love once again, and married him in a joyful ceremony. Once again, I had the honor of performing the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony. She was radiant as she took her vows and, once again, I wiped the tears of joy out of my eyes. A daughter, Isabel, would be born to the couple, then a son, Joseph, and a month ago, another son, Levi. I prayed the first prayer over all three children at the hospital shortly after each was born and baptized each child in front of the altar at our church.

These days, Heather is a singer on our worship team. Scott plays the bass guitar for our worship ministry and serves as the church sexton. Both are heavily involved in several other ministries of the church and are true servants who are beloved by all.

This past week, with the permission of both Heather's husband and my wife, I took Heather out for a birthday dinner. The newest child, Levi, also went and slept in the booth beside his Mom at the restaurant. Heather is 36 now, not 16, but she's still just as tall, pretty, outgoing, and full of life as she was when Cindy and I first asked her to babysit for our boys, who are now grown men with careers and families of their own. Over the last two decades, she has walked through deep valleys of profound sorrow and has journeyed to heights of joy and happiness. Now, Heather Williams Haskin serves as an encourager and as a friend to others who are on their own respective journeys. I don't fry fish in my underwear anymore, but I do still claim Heather as one of my "daughters." With God's grace, I will marry her children and baptize her grandchildren in the years ahead. I can't wait to see where the rest of the journey will lead!

[Father David Epps is Rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church which meets at 8:00 and 10:00 a.m. Sundays at 4881 E. Hwy 34. He may be contacted at 770-252-2428, at [email protected] or at www.ctkcec.org.]