Set out near the tobacco fields of rural eastern North Carolina, sat a traditional, old-fashioned church. It had a musty smell, creaky floors and a small congregation. No one really ever expected that it would ever grow into much of anything.
However, despite the odds, that small, country church did grow. And it grew and grew until it became necessary for the congregation to build a new sanctuary. And then another sanctuary. And now, thirty years later, that formerly small church runs about 1500 people and is pastored by one of Steve’s dearest friends, Ferrell Hardison, the same pastor who stood in its pulpit back when it was still small and dusty.
Ferrell is one of those pastors who is exactly the same person in his daily life as he is when he is preaching. No pretense, no put on airs, no “preacher voice.” He’s down to earth. Compassionate. Wacky. Loving. Wise.
Although Steve and Ferrell don’t see each other as often as they’d like (Ferrell’s church is about 3 hours away) they talk by phone, pray for each other and share freely with each other their toughest, most private pain as well as their greatest joys and accomplishments.
Here they are a few years ago when the Smiths and the Hardisons went out to eat together. The fellas were goofing off as usual . . .
while Millie and I tried to do our best imitation of dignified pastor’s wives. (This was about five years ago when I sported less hair, fewer pounds, and fewer wrinkles.) Millie is a sweetheart of a lady, a sassy Southern Belle who dearly loves her family and her church.
Over these past 32 years of knowing the Hardisions, Ferrell has not just been a friend to Steve, he’s been a friend who brings with him a pastor’s heart.
For instance, twelve years ago when Sarah had her cancer surgery, Ferrell drove to Winston Salem and spent the whole day with us in the hospital waiting room. (We were also joined that day by Gordon Goertz, another dear pastor friend who drove all the way from Connecticut to be with us. We have truly been blessed by faithful friends.)
Four years ago when I had my mastectomy, Ferrell took time off from his exceedingly busy pastor’s life to drive to the hospital to sit with Steve during the surgery and to pray with me with the surgery was over.
Ferrell and Millie know how to love people well and that is one of their greatest gifts as pastors and friends. They have stood with us (and many other people) during the toughest times of life.
And now Ferrell and Millie are facing a great sorrow of their own. Last Thursday while Ferrell was at a conference in Atlanta, he got a phone call telling him that his 31-year old son, Mitch, had been found dead in his home.
There is nothing that can prepare you for news like that. Nothing. And it makes it even harder when the news comes when you are away from your family.
Ferrell packed up his things and got in his car to drive the long, lonely eight hours back to the tobacco fields of rural eastern North Carolina. He went back to a grieving wife, a grieving family, and a grieving church–a church that had seen Mitch grow up from his earliest years.
(Mitch is on the far left; his brother and his brother’s fiancee’ are seated.)
Sometimes people can get the mistaken impression that preachers and their families get a free ride when it comes to escaping heartache and hardship. They may think that “regular” families certainly deal with all sorts of family challenges but certainly not pastors! (It would be nice if that were true. But it’s not. In fact, I wrote a blog post about that very subject here. It’s a post that digs deep and comes straight from my heart.)
Ferrell and Millie have certainly not escaped hard times in their own family; in fact, they have been very open with their church about the fact that Mitch has struggled with substance abuse for many years. Their wonderful church family has prayed with them through the hard times with Mitch, and they loved them through the hard times with Mitch. Because that’s what families do.
On Saturday, Ferrell posted the following words on his public Facebook page:
THANKS TO ALL of you for your words of love and encouragement, and for your prayers. Our hearts are crushed but we are so happy for Mitch. Because of his long battle with addiction, Mitch had many physical problems. He was also fighting a huge battle with depression. There is absolutely no evidence that this death was self-inflicted. In the last few weeks Mitch and I had enjoyed some wonderful conversations about his relationship with God and there is no doubt in my mind that he was ready meet Him. Tears are flowing in grief but our hands are lifted high in praise to our God Who has never ever forsaken us!
Ferrell and Millie’s reliance on God’s peace and comfort as they have started down this path of sorrow has been an inspiration to all of us who know and love them.
Ferrell was back in his pulpit preaching yesterday morning and tonight he will step into that pulpit once more—only this time to preach the funeral of his son. I can imagine few greater heartaches.
Steve and I will be present at that service tonight. We will be there to celebrate a life, to remember a beloved son, and to grieve with our dear friends.
And amidst the great sorrow, I have no doubt that there will be smiles, laughter and music lighting up that sanctuary as well. Mitch was a lot like his dad–he was one very funny guy. And I can’t imagine any memorial service for Mitch being complete without a lot of memories being shared of his light-hearted, wacky side.
Mitch was an immensely talented videographer and video editor who was involved in working in video/media production at his dad’s church as well as doing professional video work for other organizations and individuals.
During the thirty-one years of his life, Mitch was well-loved. There is no doubt about that. And his absence will create an ache in his parents’ hearts deeper than any words could ever describe.
Steve summed it up well this morning when he said he would no doubt have many trips to see Ferrell over the next few months. Because with as much fun and laughter and conversation as the two of them have shared together over three decades of friendship, it’s when friends are on the path of sorrow that they really need someone to walk along with them.
The path is set. The journey won’t be made alone.
Note: While I’m on this subject, I want to draw your attention to an excellent interview with Kay Warren called, “A Year of Grieving Dangerously.” (Kay and her husband, Rev. Rick Warren, lost their son to suicide a year ago.)
She gives excellent advice for all of us who deal with bereaved people we deeply care about. And if you are the one who is bereaved, she gives you compassionate permission to take as long as you need on that journey of grief. She is a great woman and the words she shares are definitely worth the time to read.
We all suffer. And we all needs friends to walk the path of sorrow with us.
Just read this tonight. Things have been busy here and kinda “upside down.” I am praying for the parents and your family, too. I know the hole left when our parents leave us but cannot relate to losing a child. I do know God’s loving arms are so helpful as well as the support of our friends. Still dealing with that in the passing of Mama on March 15. May the memories keep the parents ever close and know he lives in their hearts. One day they will see him again. That is the thing that keeps me going even through tears. God bless all of you. So glad you could be there for them. You and Steve are so special.
Becky and Steve, I was not able to read this post yesterday. I have been out of the office for a few days. I just wanted you to know that, as you two have done for many of us with our petitions for prayers, I will be keeping you and Mitch and Ferrell and Millie in my prayers and thoughts. Such a heartbreaking tragedy for those who loved Mitch. However, like his father said, Mitch is fine – he is happy with his God and his trials are finished and understood. God go with all of you.
Mary,
I loved your line, “His trials are finished and UNDERSTOOD.” Those words bring such hope!
My prayers are with that family. I cannot imagine. Praying for Sarah to stay healthy and her mom too!! God bless you all.
Anonymous,
We are thankful for your prayers for all of us–the Hardisons and Sarah and me. Thank you!
The Hardison Family is very blessed to have loving friends like you. May God’s grace surround them during these most difficult days. Thanks be to God for the gift of everlasting life.
Elizabeth,
We just feel grateful to be able to reciprocate the support they shown us so many times through the years. That old songs says it best, “That’s what friends are for . . . “
One of your best posts. Thank God for friends to share life’s journey with us, over smooth roads and muddy ones.
Cheryl,
Love the line, “Over smooth roads and muddy ones.” How very picturesque and how very true!
Becky, I love hearing about friendships… long ones that go way back. Especially between men. How beautiful to have that friendship in place, to know those arms are there, the shoulder, the understanding, the love. Praise God for the relationship of these men. Praying for both of your families.
Melanie,
I agree–long term friendships between men are a rare treasure. Women tend to be so much more relationship-oriented that it’s not as unusual to have lifelong friendships. It has been a huge blessing to see Steve and Ferrell’s friendship last through so many decades.
Thanks for your sweet words and prayers.
I’m very sorry for your friend’s path of sorrow. I’ll keep them in prayer.
Judimarie,
Thanks so much–WE appreciate it and THEY will appreciate it.
My prayers go out to Mitch’s family and friends. I am so glad they have you and Steve to help comfort them. There just are no words……..
Holly,
“There are no words.” How true that is. Nothing could ever be said or written that could even begin to take away the pain of a bereaved parent. It is truly a valley too deep for words.
I am so sorry for your friends loss. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain of losing a child. My heart hurts for them. Praying for the family. Wendy
Wendy,
Thank you so much for your compassionate, caring heart and your prayers. That means so much.
Becky
I am somewhat of a lurker….follow you blog.
I am so sorry for your friend’s loss. I have had some friends who lost a child and have prayed for and with them. I have laughed and cried with them. But, must say I never truly understood their grief until this summer when my 22 year old son died in an accident. All of a sudden I was a member of their club.
I consider my catholic faith strong. I believe Joey is happy and looking after us. But, I will never again be able to hug him. I miss him calling me and saying “what’s up mom…I love you”. I miss his sense of humor and his compassion. My 4 other children will never be able to celebrate holidays, family meals, vacations, laughter, weddings, birthdays, secrets…I could go on and on.
I hurt for your friend because I really know and understand his grief. As strong as our faith is, his son is no longer with him physically.
Sending prayers.
Lauren,
Your comment hits so close to home since your son and my son are so close in age. When I think of all the funny, dear, sweet things Nathan does and says, and then I think of all those things suddenly being gone . . . well, it’s completely incomprehensible.
With Mitch’s death, through the years the loss will continue to be felt in so many ways, when his brother gets married, when his nephews and nieces are born, when all the Christmases and birthday and milestones are celebrated that he won’t be there for. I know you’re already experiencing those missed milestones in your own family and it must be incredibly difficult.
As you said, it is a great comfort to have faith and know that your son is happy and looking after you. But to have him gone physically is a hole of the hugest kind. Grace to you.
P.S. Becky, this blog post was an incredibly beautiful tribute to Mitch, as well to to the deep friendship you share with his parents. I bet this is something Millie will treasure, as it so beautifully describes Mitch and his life from the perspective of someone else who cared about him, and it also pays tribe to your long lasting, supportive, and beautiful friendship. As an idea, maybe you could print this blog post on pretty paper and give it to Millie; I bet she would find it meaningful. The loss of a child at any age must be so devastating and I pray for comfort for all those who mourn his passing.
This is so incredibly sad and heartbreaking Becky. Ferrell and Millie are really blessed to have you and Steve in their lives at this time of sorrow. To have such loving, caring friends who are there for them during the lowest point of their lives, and who will not shy away from walking alongside them as they traverse a dark valley, will be an incredible gift as they mourn their beautiful son.
Jenna,
It’s when we “traverse a dark valley,” as you so beautifully put it, that the depth of true friendships are found.
And I loved your idea of printing off the post for Millie. What a joy to honor her son!
I am so sorry.
Mrs. Pam,
Thank you for your compassionate heart.
Oh Becky, I just have tears streaming down my face as I read that, you described the relationship between Steve and Ferrell and Ferrell and Mitch so eloquently, I could just feel the love and the pain, I am so sorry.
Dale,
Thank you for your compassion and your tears. I am so glad to be reminded that the depth of Ferrell and Millie’s sorrow for Mitch is also the depth of their love.
When my dad died a wonderful pastor said to me “the pain is the story of the love.” It’s a very simple sentiment, but it is so true.
My heart is breaking for Mitch’s family and friends. So glad that Steve will be by Ferrell’s side in the hard days to come. The family will be in my prayers!
Cindy from Sonoma
Cindy,
I know you’ve had a hard couple of weeks; thanks for taking the time out of your own life to be so concerned for this sweet family.
Yesterday after a dreary day of rain at 4pm the sun came shinning out. I thought of Mitch’s family and wished they could see it.
So sorry for your friends’ loss.
Phyllis,
Thanks you so much!
thinking of you and Steve also. When folks we love hurt, we hurt right along with them. Prayers for their family and you also.
Becky,
“When folks we love hurt, we hurt right along with them.” That is so very true.
So glad to hear that Mitch was ready to meet God… although, I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child… I see that all too frequently in my job… I know God has his perfect timing, and everything works out perfectly the way he see fit… Glad that Steve can help over the next months/years… a true friend is a treasure indeed! Will keep this family in our prayers!!
Tiffany,
Losing a child is something we came so close to experiencing so I did get a small peek into the grief that lies beyond a child’s death. But no, I can’t imagine the feelings and the grief of it actually happening–especially when it’s a young adult with so much potential ahead of them. Prayers are appreciated for them!