How do I tell you about the man who stole my heart, and all our years together called me “My Heart?”
Rob Sanders was the gentlest of gentlemen whose tender feelings and love for people caused him much anguish at times. He cared deeply for the underdogs of the world, the innocent, the abused, the forgotten, the poverty stricken, the lonely, the outsiders. His care became empathy which became pain which tormented him greatly at times.
And for this, I loved him.
Rob took on the hierarchy of his previous denomination and blasted them for heresy, losing his place in that church body, causing that church to Issue an Order of Defrockment, giving up teaching and seminary positions, foregoing a steady income or financial stability, and coming close to losing his home, because truth was more important than any of these.
And for this, I loved him.
The truth was, Truth was the great principle of his life. He never took anything as fact from any source unless he first delved into it himself. This was true of government, politics, daily life, ideology, psychology, and most of all theology. His basis for eternal truth was the God-man who said, “I am the way, the TRUTH, and the life and the unadulterated scripture which was not amended to approve an individual’s belief system.
And for the stand he took, I loved this man.
My husband had a keen sense of humor that few were privileged to see, and a fun side which broke out in the most unexpected times and places. He loved to dance, play the guitar, and sing. The last time he felt well enough to dance the night away to good ole rock-and-roll music was at Alvis’s and Chrissy’s wedding. He had a fabulous time, filled with love and laughter in the moment of joy at his friends’ marriage. These were special times when he laid aside his priestly garments and became the good-ole-boy from Tennessee.
And for the joie de vivre, I loved him.
Speaking of Tennessee, a visit with his brothers was the nearest and dearest of relaxation retreats. As we would drive from our home to one of his brother’s homes in middle Tennessee, his foot on the gas grew heavier and heavier. I teased him often about being a horse galloping faster and faster as he neared home. Words are not adequate to express how much he loved, admired, and simply enjoyed his brothers.
And for this family bond, I loved him.
Just before we were married, Rob told me becoming a Sanders could not be taken lightly. He said this was a name of great history, accomplishment, and “substance.” I assured him I felt up to the task. But then again perhaps I didn’t give enough import to what he was trying to convey. The Sanders Clan is truly an exceptional family. They are the most non-judgmental, accepting, caring, loving, welcoming and affirming group of people I have ever met. After our recent Thanksgiving celebration, Rob commented the gathering had been a taste of heaven to him, the Kingdom come down to earth, where harmony, happiness, joy in each other’s company, and an open love reigned.
And so, for making me a Sanders, I loved Rob.
As a priest, it was to be expected Rob loved the Lord God. But Rob’s love meant total devotion, a selling oneself into the service, and slavery if you will, of the One who bought him back from the terrors of evil he lived in for many years. Perhaps 4 nights before his death, Rob was in excruciating pain, and the hospice nurses had not yet begun their round-the-clock medications to manage his pain. Rob sat on the edge of a chair, put his arms around my waist as I stood in front of him put his forehead in my stomach and literally screamed, “Jesus, I love You! I have always loved You! And whether I live or die, I will love You still!”
For his steadfast devotion to his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I love you Robert Jordan Sanders!
I have loved you as a dream, I have loved you as reality, I love you now, and I always will. You remain My Most Favorite!
Jerree Trimble Sanders
