The Many Thoughts of Wanda Kidd

When people congratulated me on my retirement recently, I was unsure how to react. Mainly because it would necessitate an acknowledgment of feelings, and for the most part, expressing feelings is an enigma to me.  Rarely do they emerge in a timely or orderly fashion.

They always seem to manifest themselves in unexpected and uncontrollable ways.  Sometimes, I stumble over them as I am just walking along, and sometimes, they jump on my back and wrap their arm around my windpipe until I cannot breathe; both scenarios throw me off balance and make me feel vulnerable. Also, my feelings rarely come to the party alone. When one arrives at the door, I can see so many others trying to push their way in and make me talk to them as well. So these last couple of days of full retirement has put me in a full-on reflected place.

Allegorically, I have experienced this transition as the completion of a marathon.  Let me assure you I have never run a marathon race with numbers on my front and back, expensive shoes, and qualifying pre-runs, but I do know how it feels to run the marathon of a woman in ministry from the 1970s until today.

The signs on my back and front felt more like concentric circles with a target in the middle than numbers, and the pre-runs I kept making never seemed to be enough for someone to say, you are ready for the big race, Wanda. But Let me say that for every person who made me feel like they were doing me a favor to be allowed in the race at all, there have been hundreds of people along the way who made it worth the risk of the run.

I knew, without a doubt, that I was created to live out my life in Christian ministry with young people. Because of that,  I endured a lot of slights, humiliations, and head-ducking, and so did my family. I am so happy I endured, but I do find that I am bone-weary.

Painful memories linger as they do for many others. The woman who thought I should not be considered for the $50 a week youth ministry job because she knew that two girls in my previous youth group had gotten pregnant, and somehow, I was responsible for that. Then there was the man who conversationally assured his wife that he had not slept with me in college after shaking my hand at the church door. Another time, as I was sitting down with my food at an associational meeting, I introduced myself as the Baptist Campus Minister at WCU to the Director of Missions.  He looked at me, rose, gave pointed looks to everyone else at the table, and on cue, they all stood up and left me sitting alone in the middle of the room. Down to the man who said he certainly hoped I was not embarrassed by all of the attention I had recently received about my retirement.

Enduring all of those incidents was my decision, but watching the cost to my family, who supported my calling was, in some ways, more challenging and more painful. My husband lost accounting clients over my role in ministry. One day he was held captive in a dental chair while the conservative dentist lectured him for over an hour about a husband’s role and responsibility in controlling his wife. A wife who had obviously misheard God’s call. My daughter mentioned in a religion class at a Baptist college that her mother was a minister and was eviscerated by her classmates.  During the whole episode, the professor did not say a word to defuse the situation nor ask her if she was OK when the class was over.

So, yes, I am glad I trained and persevered in running this ministry marathon. As Maya Angelo gave voice to the spiritual, I, too, “Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now.” But give me a minute. Let me catch my breath and stand up straight.  Let me walk off a few things and deal with those myriads of feelings that kept pace with me and even those that chased me. Then, God willing, I will be ready to see what new races lie ahead.  Thank you for all of the good wishes, the cheers from the sidelines, and those who placed the finish-line banner across the ending of this chapter.  I appreciate you all, even those who did not know that their opposition was part of what made me run.  So Be It. Amen.