Who's Your Mentor?

Returning to the scene of the crime 😉 triggered this reflection.

Jun 05, 2025

It came on gradually, our friendship. For the first nine years, I was too busy running a convenience store business to give her much more than a passing nod or a quick hug. I was barely aware she was First Son’s Sunday School teacher.

Not that I didn’t notice her presence from the moment I first stepped into the sanctuary.

A Little Background

I was raised in an unusual congregation—for the 1960s and even for today—where Black people and White people sat side-by-side in the pew. Doris was my first Black friend, and I was hers.

I had already met her uncle, Pastor Aaron, when my dad (Ron) offered guest ministry in Aaron’s congregation one Sunday morning. I could see the immense respect Ron had for Aaron. Clearly Aaron was a spiritual mentor to him.

So, when Doris showed up in my Sunday School class—taught by Ron—it was practically like meeting a distant cousin.

We became good friends. Our friendship has continued to grow over the years. I don’t see her often. Mostly at our church’s World Conference. Once in a while at other events when we both return to Western Pennsylvania.

Yankee Prejudice

The first time I stepped into the Community of Christ sanctuary in Greenville, SC, I was just visiting with my family. We were considering a move from Pittsburgh, PA, in search of economic opportunity. But first, I needed to know we would all be comfortable in the new congregation.

My fear, my prejudice, was colored by watching Southern televangelists. A minister with a Southern drawl. A white bread congregation.

Even familiar hymns and accoutrements wouldn’t overcome those very specific showstoppers in my Yankee brain.

But that fear evaporated the moment I stepped into the sanctuary. Because she was there. One Black woman in a sea of white. One was enough.

Yes, and the male speaker that day was from Ohio. The female pastor was from Canada.

One man, after the service, asked if I knew Pastor Vicki. Yikes! She was like a second mother to me.

The familiar accoutrements comforted my children. The hymnals were the same as we used at home. The folded bulletins used the same pre-printed paper stock. The church seal on the pulpit matched the one they, and I, grew up looking at every Sunday.

But, for me, all these things were icing on the cake. What mattered was that Cindy was there, in the pew, proving that my experiences in this congregation would only continue those of my church life thus far.

A Mentor Emerges When She Is Needed

I didn’t get to church as much as normal for the next nine years, while Husband and I owned the large convenience store we had built in South Carolina. I didn’t get to “Reunion” (family camp) in the summer. I didn’t get to the other annual retreats. The closest I got to any camp was dropping off my kids at youth camp—some years—but I was always too busy with the business to “retreat” myself.

And then we sold the store, in 2008.

Suddenly, my church toggle switch flipped back to ON. Full speed ahead. Services every Sunday. Ready to attend every retreat they offered. And Reunion.

That first Reunion in the South, Cindy immediately took me under her wing, explaining where the campground was, what the accommodations were like, what to bring. We filled a dinner table in the camp cafeteria: Cindy, me, and the minivan load of grandkids she brought.

We became travel buddies. Not just for Reunions, but retreats and classes. We were practically Ruth and Naomi (Ruth 1:16).

When I was offered the pastorship in 2010, it was Cindy who encouraged and supported me.

Guilt Works

Yet there was still one thing I wasn’t up for. One experience that just never made it onto my radar: World Conference.

World Conference is a regular event in Community of Christ. It comes around every two or three years. A couple thousand people gather in Independence, MO for a week of voting on matters of leadership, policy, and direction, mixed with plenty of fellowship. Old friendships are rekindled. New ones are birthed.

It just wasn’t something anyone in my family did. For one thing, it was costly, both in terms of money and time. For another, no one in my family since my great-grandfather had been in a leadership position in the congregation.

That changed with me.

I had already served as pastor in 2010 and 2011. After a break, I became co-pastor in 2016. And Conference was coming up in June that year.

I was standing at the sink, cleaning up from a potluck dinner after Sunday worship. Cindy came in. She began what sounded like a casual conversation. It was not.

“Well, you know, Conference is this year.”

I nodded.

“Have you thought about going?”

I was noncommittal. “I thought about it. I haven’t decided. I’ve never been before. I’m not sure I can take the time off work.”

“Well, you know, I usually would go with my sister, Bert, but she’s not well enough to travel anymore. And I’m almost 77 myself.”

She hesitated.

“If you aren’t going, then I won’t go either. I can’t make that trip by myself anymore.”

And there it was. She had guilted me. What could I say?

“Ok, then. I’ll go with you.”

Community of Christ Headquarters, Independence MO — Cindy at World Conference 2016

Looking back now, I see she was handing me the torch. That was Cindy’s last trip to Conference. She herself was not well enough to travel when the next Conference came around in 2019. I went alone.

She passed away in late 2020, when the world was just beginning to come alive again toward the end of the worst of COVID.

I missed Conference in 2023 due to my own health issues. But I’m back at it again in 2025.

Everything Works Together for Good

Because of Cindy, my identity changed—from the type of person who didn’t go to Conference, ever, into the type of person for whom going was routine, expected, typical.

And as it turns out, this has been super important for my endeavors as a writer. In 2025, I went to Conference not just to attend, but to market. To spread the message that I could offer help—via my recently published Spiritual Life Writer’s Workbook—to those who wanted to share their sacred story.

It’s something to which our faith community feels particularly called. Two recent additions to Community of Christ’s open canon of scripture address this calling.

Do not fail to listen attentively to the telling of the sacred story, for the story of scripture and of faith empowers and illuminates.
--- Community of Christ. Doctrine and Covenants. Section 161:5a. (2000)

Listen carefully to the many testimonies of those around the world who have been led into the fellowship of the Community of Christ. The richness of cultures, the poetry of language, and the breadth of human experience permit the gospel to be seen with new eyes and grasped with freshness of spirit. That gift has been given to you. Do not fail to understand its power.
--- Community of Christ. Doctrine and Covenants. Section 162:4a. (2004)

As I expected, my message resonated with those I met at Conference. The trip was a success.

I sold some copies of the Workbook. I made a few hundred people aware of its availability as a resource.

And, all the while, I soaked in the spirit and encouragement of my extended church family.

What I Learned from Cindy

Cindy taught me much more than just what is alluded to in this story. Here’s a start:

You can have an effect on someone else just by sitting in a pew, by being present, by issuing a compelling invitation.
Saying “Yes” to new experiences can have an impact well beyond the initial obvious result.
Find fun ways to pass on your values to your grandchildren. Take them to camp. Be the day-care-giver. Teach them to respect you. Encourage them to be their best selves.
Take any hardship, any setback, any illness—even chemotherapy—as an opportunity to share God’s love with those you meet on your journey back to wholeness.
Mentors are important. If you’re young, look for one. If you’re old, be one.