A Time To Breathe. A Time To Heal.

Steph D. Clark
Jul 29
3 min read

Updated: Aug 7

Honoring my Father: Steven Paul Magee

Hey friends,

I'm taking a brief pause to honor my father, who passed away on July 4.

Because he lived in Texas, we didn't get to see each other often. Looking back, I am especially grateful that I was able to spend meaningful time with him this past January. We talked, laughed, and the last thing we did together was pray. I didn't know then that it would be our final goodbye, but I am so thankful that prayer became our last shared moment.

While I was in Texas after his passing, it rained every single day. I remember thinking, This place isn't the same now that Stevo is gone. Then another thought came: I'll probably never come here again.

Galveston has always been one of my favorite places. Like my father, I too love being near the water. Yet in the middle of grief, a place that once brought me so much joy suddenly felt unfamiliar. It even felt as though the rain represented his tears because we were in his city, yet he could no longer be with us.

What I learned from all of this is that grief has a way of changing how we see people, places, and even the future. It whispers that life will never be the same again. In many ways, it won't—but I also know that healing has a way of gently restoring what grief has taken from us.

As I reflect on the months leading up to my father's death, I find myself with a greater respect for the way he navigated his time. One thing about my dad was that he rarely wavered in who he was or what he wanted. There were times when that frustrated me, and I didn't always agree with his decisions. However, I'm happy to say that today I understand them more than I ever thought I would.

With time and perspective, I can see that many of Dad's choices were deeply rooted in love and protection for my sisters and me. They were also rooted in preparation as he stared death in the face. When I reflect on what I once viewed as stubbornness, I now see a father making one final attempt to love his daughters and family in the best way he knew how. He knew he was leaving this earth, and in many ways, he chose to shield us from hurt and pain. That realization has become one of the unexpected gifts hidden within this season of grief, especially when I think about the many ways my dad and I struggled in our relationship. For that, I will always be grateful.

Chaplaincy has taught me how to compartmentalize grief, emotions, and even pain while caring for others. Professionally, that skill has served me well, but I am realizing that what sustains me in ministry does not always sustain me personally. In this season, I am learning that creating intentional space for grief is not the same as setting it aside. Although I believe that I am okay in this moment, grief has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways. Rather than rushing past the healing process, I want to honor it by making room for reflection, counseling, and whatever emotions may emerge along the way.

For me, that means extending the ministry break that was originally planned for August to now include September, October, and November. This pause is not about stepping away from my calling; it is about creating the margin needed to care for my own heart, trusting that seasons of rest and healing are also part of faithful ministry.

Thank you for your patience, your prayers, and for continuing to support me during this season as I take time to breathe. Please know that I cherish every opportunity I have had to be in your presence, and I am deeply grateful for every way you have supported me and the ministry our Lord has graciously entrusted to me.

Since the beginning of this year, I have encouraged others to create space to breathe. This season is teaching me the importance of extending that same grace to myself. That lesson has become especially important as the loss of my father came just four months after my husband lost his father. Then, only two weeks after my father's passing, his sister—my last living paternal aunt—also passed away. Our family is still learning how to navigate so much loss in such a short period of time.

I humbly ask that you keep our entire family in your prayers as we each process grief in our own way and seek God's comfort and strength in the days ahead. Every prayer, message, and act of kindness is deeply appreciated.

Thanks so much for the time you took to read this blog post.

Sincerely,

Steph