Let’s wrap this story up.

That door slamming was my boss returning. He blew off the guy he was meeting and was proceeding full steam ahead.

He started yelling again before he got into the office. He roared past me leaving me close to the door. (Hey, at that stage, I took what I could get)

You know how people get red with rage? He was white and really wound. That’s not at all good, but at least his eyes were more focused.

His ‘you’ statements were present oriented and very specifically directed at me.

His ‘I’ statements were a sad muddle of past and present.

At this stage I had no idea how long I’d been in sympathetic nervous system arousal. Long enough thanks, but not as long as him, he was good for another few hours. I didn’t want to be.

Blessed are the pleasant people….

The head Reverend didn’t say a word, didn’t move, didn’t do anything.

Blessed are the peacemakers….

To this day I’m angry at the Reverend’s behaviour, because he could have said, “Enough! We’ll discuss this later.” Or something. He could have chosen peace over pleasant. I’ll never understand people that don’t.

Obviously this had to de-escalate and I figured since I was the present irritant, it was high time for me to get out of there.

I edged toward the door and said very very quietly under the shouting, “I’ll train my replacement if you need me too.”

I don’t remember driving home. Later that night the editor came over and we sat up all night talking, and yes, weeping. I don’t remember that very well either.

Blessed are they that mourn…

Parasympathetic response eventually kicked in and I slept.
I grieved alone for a few days. Life and people took the back seat while I waited for my thinking process to clear and emotions to settle.
The editor came over and filled me in on how my former boss was doing.
Mildly put, not well. People were being pleasant to him.

That’s another thing that still gets me angry. They had a professional minister-counsellor running the counselling centre. I know this isn’t quite covered in the phone counselling manuals, and there isn’t neat scripture to frame this with, but did anyone stop being pleasant long enough to try to help this guy?

A few days of grieving and solitude were just the ticket. I got angry.

I might have something roll right off my back that really hurts you. We are all different. I’m not going to tell you to move on, I’m going to listen first, and hear your story, and we’ll take it from there if you want to. It’s your decision whether you can wrestle with peace.

And please don’t tell me there are two sides to every story because that’s very cheap thinking. People are like diamonds, complex and multi-faceted, and we don’t live in isolation.

I went into the office, made a few calls and went to the head Reverend.
I tried very hard to be pleasant.

“Good morning. Well?” I said.

“I can put you were laid off on your UI slip, and I’m only authorized to give you two weeks severence pay.”
I thanked him and left him with my parting shot.

“Appreciate this, I’ve got some meetings with some people at the US headquarters.”
And that was that.

It didn’t take long. The editor got hold of me.

“Are you really going to the States?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got two weeks vacation to use up, can I come?”

“Yep.”

Blessed are the pure in heart….

The staff in the US were wonderful and we had a grand time.
But something followed us down I honestly didn’t know what to do with. I still don’t sometimes when I meet other difficult, hurt people. My former boss really thought I was out to get his job, slander him and demean him. He was frantic. Despite assurances from others, he had fixated, and it was really really sad. No one could unring the bell. I pondered calling him, of trying to reassure him, but better people than I had tried. I couldn’t handle any more picking and didn’t know if I could remain civil. It took a long time for me to release him from my judgement.

I met with their news director who was setting up a fledging department and got offered the news job of a lifetime in a separate division. He was safe and always had been. Did that talented producer’s panic, trauma, hurt, control and fear factor into my final decision? Yes actually, a bit.

Blessed are the merciful….

I said no.

I was free to keep healing, and be a healer. I was free to take myself back and own my gifts and talents. Free to ponder what peace costs, and when it needs to be exercised over pleasant. I was free to decide I was never ever going to be a professional christian in a professional christian organization ever again. I was free to begin to live again under these two rules only, spoken or unspoken.

Jesus replied: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

What happened to everyone?
I have no idea what happened to the head Reverend. Hopefully he grew a spine.
The editor quit after our trip and went to work as a producer at a cable network.
I got another broadcast journalist position when I got back.
The producer left shortly after and attempted to run a health food store on the coast.

I was channel surfing a few months ago. There he was.
On a telethon. For another ‘christian’ network.
He’s an executive producer, and host of a children’s show now. Some of his staff were standing respectfully behind him while he was being interviewed.
He looked good. The footage of his show was top notch of course, and all done on a shoe string budget.
He was professional and pleasant.
I hope he’s found peace.