From the Corner of a Pastor's Wife

 Since beginning my blog back in 2008, I mostly write to update friends, family, and anyone really about the comings and goings of my simple life, from my highschool years, to college life, to working in California, and Maryland, my wedding to Dan, and our life here in upstate New York.  In all that time, I don't believe I've talked about a reality of my life that is weighty and more serious in nature...that being, life in the pastor's family and life as a pastors wife.  

Many of you may know that I grew up as a pastor's daughter.  My father began a church when I was three years old, and as far back as I can recall, that is all I ever knew.  I've known what it was like to pray and hope and hope and pray that the church would be full each Sunday.  I recall one instance on a Sunday, driving to the 10AM church service in our big, brown, econoline van, and closing my eyes as we rounded a bend on route 34 just outside of Aspers, PA, silently praying through the names of church attenders and members.  I would pray that they would have a desire to come hear the preaching, to come worship corporately in song and testimony, and that they would desire to fellowship with other believers.  

I'd heard every excuse in the book.  See, my father was a pastor, but also a full-time truck driver.  He worked all week long to make a living, and then on Saturdays, he would go out visiting people who'd visited the church, knocking on doors of people who had never visited...etc.  He would take us with him.  I spent nearly every Saturday of my childhood seeing people avoid my dad, sometimes talk to him for hours on end, sometimes be angry and yell at him, many (many) times lie to him and make promises they never intended to keep.  But he kept on going.  And I knew all of these people by name.

Sometimes, people would come to church after such a visit.  I would pray for these people.  Sometimes, people would come to church for years, then get angry about one sermon, and never come again.  

Sometimes, people would come to church, form close relationships with everyone at church, and then try to squeeze money out of people.  

Sometimes, the parents of children who were my friends, would write terrible letters full of accusations, lies, and slanders about my father, and mail them out to everyone in the church.  

Do you know though, that my parents never told me those things?  They knew that the hurts and hardships of ministry were not something a child should ever bear.  I would pray for some of these people without ever knowing what was going on behind the scenes.  

Fast forward if you will.  

I am now 30 years old.  I could have married a plumber, or electrician, or construction man, or Pastor, but I decided to marry all of these- in one.  :-)  Dan knows how to do all of this work.  :-) 

In a way, when Dan became a Pastor, I thought that of COURSE there would be ups and downs etc.  But surely there wouldn't be back-stabbing.  Surely there wouldn't be gossipers, or people who send out nasty emails about you...or people who get upset because you change a service time etc.  

But people are people...and the same problems that I saw in some people back in 1999 as a pastor's daughter are the same problems that some people have today in 2022.  

There have been gossipers.

There have been back-stabbers. 

There have been folks who made promises to the moon and then are gone without a word. 

There have been people who have shown tremendous kindness.

There have been people who have caused hurts so deep...

There have been many unkind words.

There have been faithful friends.  

There have been people who have grown, changed, and then went back to their old ways.

There have been 12 steps forward, and then 20 steps back...

And just three days ago, my sweet little Gwen, who is 3 years old, looked up at me when we were printing off handouts for the ladies Bible study, and asked "Mommy, why doesn't __________________ come to church anymore?" 

A few months ago, after Dan and I had been rebuked in anger by a church attendee for nearly 3 hours, Gwen asked "Daddy, why is _______________ so angry?" 

Tables have turned, because we simply answer "Well honey, God knows.  Let's pray for them." 

And each night at bedtime, Gwen prays for everyone to come to church, same as I used to.  She doesn't need to hear the truth as it would only make her cynical and to doubt that God is still at work.  

Gwen and Lucie a few days ago were talking about their friends and I heard them saying to one another "Well, ____________, and ________________, and _________________ are my best friends!" 

It almost made my heart break, because I know that Gwen and Lucie will likely not see _____________, ________________, or __________________ at church anymore.

These are weighty realities of ministry.  The ministry is wonderful.  But it is also hard.  

It is hard because unlike a salesman who is only forming a relationship in order to make a good commission, 

Unlike a waitress who is only exuberant and friendly because she wants a good tip, 

Unlike a politician who only is amiable in order to get your vote....

Being a Pastor or pastors wife is all about forming relationships with, investing time in, being vulnerable to people for a cause that is primarily unseen.  Our goal is not to have a big church, or to have a huge Bible study.  Our goal is to lift up Christ, teach others' about Christ, and help them to then learn to reach others for Christ.

If you have a pastor, lift him up in prayer.  If you have a pastors wife, do the same.  

If you have been guilty of making excuses, missing church for things that are not life-threatening, know that there may be a pastors child somewhere praying for you, while their parents are praying that God would honor the faith of that child. 

If you ARE a pastors wife, I'd love to pray for you by name.  

Two weeks ago, I saw a Facebook marketplace listing for a playmobil play set for free. The woman getting rid of it was cleaning out her closets.  I contacted her and asked if I could come get it on Tuesday.  She gave me her address, told me where it would be on the front porch, and I went to pick it up.  Underneath the playmobil box was a note with my name on it.  

Inside, the woman had written me a kind note stating that she saw via my profile that my husband was a pastor,  She left me $10 and thanked me for being faithful in ministry throughout the hard times.  How did she know there were hard times? Because she, too, is a pastors wife.  

It's easy to feel like you're the only one experiencing trials or rough patches, or messengers of Satan that  buffet you... 

But you aren't. You aren't ever alone.  With childlike faith, give your burdens to God, don't allow cynicism or bitterness to creep in, and keep believing God to use you where you are!  

(P.S. I know this is weighty and don't worry...my next post will be back to normal.:-)  This is Something I've been praying about/thinking about for a few weeks now and felt compelled to share)