{This brief summary of Linda’s life was written by her when she entered Chaplaincy training at Loma Linda Medical Center in 1986.)
MY LIFE
I have a painting in my office of a little girl running in a large meadow of daisies, wind blowing through her hair. My sister, who is 18 months younger than I painted it for me to represent our childhood on a farm in New York state. I credit my carefree, tranquil childhood with the richness I feel inside. My Grandma, my Parents, our life style balanced with work and play, quietness and activity had a lasting effect on me. I feel very rich and thankful because I have always known I was loved, therefore I do not doubt that I am loveable. I experience God as a powerful friend, and Jesus as my Saviour. All that has firm, easily traceable roots in my childhood.
At age 16 I left the farm for Atlantic Union College. I took Secretarial Science in college because I already knew who I wanted to marry and I planned to help him through school. I worked as a secretary to the owner/manager of a printing company and as secretary to the academic dean of Atlantic Union College while I took classes in Elementary Education. In my husband’s senior year in college I taught grades 5-8 in the Boston S.D.A. Church school. (That is, I took the role of teacher. Actually I learned far more than I taught: And indeed I had a lot to learn!) While my husband attended the Seminary I worked as a secretary to the academic dean of Home Study Institute.
A few months before we left the Seminary my first important career began when our son was born. As a mother to him and his sister born two years later, I learned to give at a new level and to listen and learn from children. I learned how to nuture and how to let go.
My second career as a pastor’s wife also brought me joy. For six years in small churches and 14 years in college churches the job description I gave myself was to love the people. I felt tremendous freedom to use my gifts as I chose in ministry. Prayer/Support groups for women, work with children in many ways, training for ministerial student wives, etc. became fulltime work for me.
When my husband left pastoral ministry for hospital administration we left our children who were in college, my parents who had retired near us, our country home in Walla Walla, Wa. for Los Angeles. We left my work as well as his. I would not have initiated the choice to leave. Yet instinctively I knew that my choice was crucial for my adjustment to our new life. I put everything we were leaving on one side of the scale and my husband on the other. He was heavier and I chose to move with him.
Even so, the move was devastating for me. In the next three years I experienced grief and pain in ways that changed me and deepened my ministry. Before I had learned to listen and not to judge, to listen and to support and love. Now I know how it feels to be able only to hang on, to feel surrounded by fog and uncertainty, to struggle and to hurt and to want to give up.
I worked for a year as a receptionist in the cardiovascular lab at a Los Angeles hospital. (See the poem “Walls) . I saw fear and sometimes despair on patients’ faces. The best I could do was be kind to them for a few minutes but I couldn’t really help. That year was probably the most difficult of my life. I remember one of the chaplains telling me, “Linda, you should be a chaplain.” That idea excited me, but the opportunity to fulfill that dream seemed entirely out of reach.
I believe I was led to Pacific Oaks College in Pasadena where I was able to receive credit for my work experience and to prove competency in undergraduate classes so that I could enter the Masters’ Program. My thesis opened many doors and windows in my understanding of grief. I interviewed forty parents whose child had died or who have a handicapped child. I asked two questions: What did people do that helped? What did people do that made your experience more difficult? I couldn’t have found better teachers. I hope to submit my manuscript for publication.
I thought I wanted to direct a Child Care Center. In January, 1982 I met with the senior pastor of an Adventist Church in southern California to ask questions about the Children’s Center his church was about to open. Before the interview ended he asked me to join the pastoral staff as Pastor of Education. Few Adventist women in my generation ever thought of becoming pastors (for obvious reasons). The idea frightened, challenged and excited me and I decided to “go for it”.
During the formative period of the Children’s Center I served as Director half time and Associate Pastor half time. I found the Children’s Center where at least five things are happening at once all day long was very difficult for me while pastoring “fit”. In six months I became a full time Associate Pastor with responsibility for Children’s Ministries, Family Ministries, Church Newsletter, etc., etc. I remained involved on a daily basis with the Children’s Center as a resource person.
For the first three years working relationships with the five male members of the pastoral staff were mostly good. I was a learner. They were the teachers. We all enjoyed that. Whatever wasn’t positive I reconstructed in my mind because I needed to be a part of the team. I needed to succeed. Many factors made the last year challenging. It seemed that the staff needed me to remain ever the learner. (I was told that “Women who want to succeed in pastoring need to learn to think like a man.”) It was time to move on.
I chose to begin C.P.E. Training, because I had discovered that I found the most satisfaction working one to one with people in pain and I genuinely wanted to refine my skill in this ministry.
Post Script: From this writing in 1986 until her death in 2014 Linda did a lot of living, loving and writing. Here is a brief summary. She and her husband did return to Washington state where she was a chaplain at Children’s Hospital in Seattle. But, sadly, the marriage did not last.
After studying further to become a licensed Mental Health therapist, Linda returned to her beloved Walla Walla valley and began her practice. Her parents shared her home and life. She delighted in her family, especially her four wonderful grandchildren.
Glimpses of her caring heart as a loving mother, faithful daughter, dedicated chaplain, mental health therapist, church elder, group leader, friend, devoted grandmother, prayer partner can be found in the words she left with us. As her heart weakened from aortic stenosis and her days dwindled down, she gave instructions to her family. ” At my memorial service, don’t make it about me. All the glory goes to God, I am just His humble servant.”
Those who knew her best agree, the the essence of the person, Linda Lou Helene Lane Gage, cannot be adequately portrayed. Nevertheless many have made meaningful attempts.
At her memorial service people spoke of what her loving acceptance meant to them. One said, “In Spanish Linda means beautiful, and that is what she was: the nurturing grandmother of the church.”
Her pastor tearfully remembered how Linda (even in her last months) pastored him, encouraging his family through the hard times.
A young mother needed a mentor and she found that and more in Linda.
A friend said, “I have never known such an affirming person as Linda. She saw the best in all of us even though she knew the worst about us. We felt so free to confide in her, knowing she was a safe place.”
The chaplain spoke of the love and appreciation she and other Hospice workers received from “dear Linda” when they visited her. Even in her demise she patiently bore the pain and weakness cheerfully, always grateful for the loving support of her family and friends. Sometimes the nights were long but she made them meaningful by softly singing praises and asking God to spread His blessings around the world to all who were in need. Meaningful—that was her word. Her depth of character allowed little room for the superficial.
Her son gave a beautiful eulogy saying his mother was a woman of unshakeable faith and natural loving compassion. Her deepest reality was always spiritual. Faith was at the core of her uncommon perspective on life and her deeply rooted unconscious drive was always to encourage and support. She saw the preciousness of people as if through divine eyes. There was a joyful, gentle, childlike innocence about her but also incredible strength. Her inner world remained largely untouched by the weakness of her body.
The last ten years of Linda’s parent’s lives were spent in her home. As they aged and went into their last decline, she faithfully saw to their comfort and needs, even as they contributed to her life. It seemed so very fitting then, that she received the same tender care from her family, and spent her last year in her daughter and son-in-law’s home. In one of her sermons she had said, “I wish that every person could live and die surrounded by love. What a dreamer I am!”
And on May 22, 2014 that is how she left us—surrounded by love.
Lila Lane George (who was blessed to be Linda’s sister)