See You Later, Not Goodbye: My Last Day as a Staff Pastor

Sisters, let me pull out a chair at this table because this one… whew. It’s a story. You ever have one of those moments where you thought you’d go out with fireworks, confetti, a marching band, maybe even a Beyoncé exit song playing in the background — but instead, it was a little more like, “oh… that’s it?” Yeah, that was my last day as a staff pastor.

After years of ministry, Sundays upon Sundays, preaching, praying, counseling, showing up for everyone else’s babies, weddings, and funerals — my chapter as a staff pastor came to an end. Not my chapter as a pastor in life, because that call is permanent. But the chapter of being “Pastor Antoinette, on staff at Living Word Family Church,” that part? That had its final page. And let me tell you, it was bittersweet, beautiful, awkward, hilarious, and everything in between.

The Fantasy Send-Off vs. Reality

You know how you imagine your last day at work? Flowers, balloons, heartfelt speeches. Maybe even a banner that says “We Love You Pastor A!” and, if I’m being real, a slow clap moment like in those movies where everybody in the office finally recognizes your greatness. In my head, there were fireworks. Literal fireworks.

But in reality? My “see you later” was beautiful but… different.

Yes, I got that prayer. My husband and I stood in the middle of the sanctuary while the senior pastors laid hands on us and prayed over our new journey. Congregation stretched out their hands. People hugged. People cried. I cried. But then there were the others — the ones who avoided eye contact like I had announced I was moving to Mars. And then there were those… awkward hugs. You know the ones. The hug where you think you’re about to get a warm “We’re so proud of you,” but instead you get whispered in your ear, “Do you even know how to speak Spanish?”

Sis. SIS. On my last day? Really?

Like… is that what you wanted to deposit into my spirit as I pack up my life, sell my stuff, and prepare to move to another country? Not, “We’ll be praying for you.” Not, “Wow, what courage.” No. Instead, I get the verbal equivalent of, “Good luck not starving.”

And listen, I know people process differently. I know some folks can’t wrap their head around a calling that takes you beyond comfort zones. But sometimes you just want to scream, “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? Do you think Duolingo hasn’t been giving me the side-eye every morning?”

The Sweet, the Sour, and the Snarky

Here’s the funny thing, though. Sometimes the people you expect the most from give you the least. And the people you barely expected a word from end up giving you exactly what you needed.

I had church members I thought might just pat me on the back and keep it moving — but instead, they spoke words of encouragement so specific, so on time, I knew it was God using them. You know those moments where you think, “Whew, that was the Lord right there.” Yep. And then on the flip side, a couple of people who you’d think would know better hit me with those snarky, sideways remarks.

And isn’t that life? Isn’t that menopause, too? The hot flashes come at the most inconvenient times, and the cold truths show up right when you think everything should be sweet. That’s why this blog — this whole space we’re building together — is called Hot Flashes & Cold Truths. Because life will hand you both.

The Hot Flash Moments

Let me tell you, I had literal hot flash moments during that last Sunday service. Standing under those bright stage lights, wearing my good church outfit, trying to look serene while sweat trickled down my back like Niagara Falls. I whispered to myself, “Lord, let me make it through this prayer without passing out.” My husband was squeezing my hand, probably thinking it was spiritual, but really, I was just praying my Spanx didn’t turn into a sauna suit and take me out.

By the time we hugged the tenth person in the receiving line, I was praying, “Jesus, please give me deodorant that lasts longer than this moment.”

The Cold Truth Moments

And then came the reality checks. The cold truths.

The truth that not everyone is going to celebrate you. Some people can’t see your vision because God didn’t give it to them. Some folks will try to plant doubt right at the finish line. And some will love you, but they’ll love you in silence, because they don’t know how to say goodbye.

And sis, that’s a cold truth that hurts. But it’s real. You can’t put your hope in people — not the clappers, not the huggers, not even the ones who brought you a Starbucks card. You put your hope in God. Period.

The Bedroom Chronicles Side Note

And because this is Hot Flashes & Cold Truths, let me keep it real. On a good night, when the hot flashes don’t hit me like a steam engine, I get a little actual rest. My sweet husband thinks it’s safe to reach over and try his luck. And here I am, feeling like a monster crawling out of my skin — not because I don’t love him, but because my body has declared war.

Ladies, don’t look at me like that. You know I’m telling the truth. One second you’re snuggling, the next second you’re shoving him off like, “Sir, it’s 400 degrees in here and you are not helping.”

That’s the thing about this stage of life — it’s not just the spiritual transitions. It’s the physical, the emotional, the marital comedy show that plays out when menopause and major life change collide.

The See You Later

So no, I didn’t get the parade, the fireworks, or the balloon drop. What I got was better. I got real life. I got hugs, prayers, snarky comments, awkward moments, tears, and laughs. I got to see God’s faithfulness in unexpected people.

And I left with this truth in my spirit: you never really say goodbye in the Kingdom. You say, “See you later.” Because the work continues, the call continues, and the story is still being written.

My title may shift, my hat may change, my geography may be different — but the fire God put in me? That’s not going anywhere.

Encouragement for You

Sisters, if you’re in a transition right now — leaving a job, moving cities, stepping into a new season — know this: you don’t need fireworks to validate your next chapter. You don’t need every hug to be perfect. You don’t need everyone to understand or approve.

What you need is courage, laughter, and faith. And maybe a fan in your purse, because Lord knows the hot flashes don’t care about your big moments.

So here’s my prayer for us: may we all have the guts to say yes when God calls, the grace to laugh at the awkward moments, and the wisdom to know that our see-you-laters are never really the end.

Because whether it’s ministry, midlife, or menopause, we’re all in transition. And sis — we’re going to be alright.

Hot Flashes & Cold Truths with Antoinette McCormick
Because sometimes the send-off isn’t fireworks… but it’s still holy.

‍