Monday, May 31, 2010

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Oh Woe is Me!


I have oft times heard PWs moan and groan about their lot in life, how put upon they are, and how "nobody knows the trouble I've seen." As my own husband frequently teases me, I do NOT have the spiritual gift of mercy. Therefore, to lamenting pastors' wives everywhere I have two things to say:

1. Get over yourself!
2. And my personal favorite: Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!

I am not totally heartless, but I also think that we shouldn't go around looking at the cup as half empty. Happiness is state of mind, but joy comes from Jesus. So, if you are having a terrible pity party I suspect that you have elected to write and send out your own invitations. However many PWs will say, "But you don't understand! My husband is on call 24/7, 365 days a year. People at our church are out to get us. The gossip is unreal. Finances are tight, etc." Yeah, I do get it. Circumstances happen, but our response to those circumstances is our choice. So we have to decide if we are going to wallow in self-pity or delight in the Lord. To be truthful, I have thrown a few extravagant pity parties in my day, complete with whine and cheese. However, as I general rule I think I do try to buck up and "just keep swimming" a la Dory in Finding Nemo.

Here are the two most common lamentations of pastors' wives that I have heard:
1. No one truly understands how miserable it is to be the wife of the pastor. I have to share my husband with so many other people.
2. We are so lonely and so far from family.


I'll tackle each of these issues. For starters, being the wife of a pastor is a misery. According to some accumulated statistics from Focus on the Family, Barna, Campus Crusade for Christ, etc.: Over 50% of pastors’ wives feel that their husbands entering ministry was the most destructive thing to ever happen to their families. Eighty percent of pastors' spouses wish their spouse would choose another profession. The majority of pastor's wives surveyed said that the most destructive event that has occurred in their marriage and family was the day they entered the ministry.. This makes me wonder...are any surveys ever done to see how the wives of general surgeons, politicians, and traveling salesmen feel? My guess is no. I have heard again and again that no one understands the plight, the sacrifice of the pastors' wife. Well, have you really talked with wives who are married to men in other professions? Different day, same story. Wives of men who are in construction or real estate are living a feast or famine life. You wanna talk stress? Not knowing how much money is coming in from month to month is pretty darn stressful! And given the current economy and lack of new construction just exacerbates the problem. Over-worked and long hours got you down? Talk to the wife of an accountant during tax season, the wife of a pediatrician, obstetrician, general surgeon, or anesthesiologist when they are on call. Many a holiday meal, family celebration, or milestone have been interrupted by physicians getting called into the hospital at the most inopportune times. Does everyone want a piece of your husband? He needs to be at three different events in one day and needs to put in an appearance at 5 different nighttime functions in one week? Talk to the wife of a politician, a professional entertainer, or a university administrator. Is your husband out of town attending conferences, camps, retreats, or denominational events for several days at a time a few times a year? Are you left at home alone to handle the house, the kids, and everything else by yourself? I don't think that wives of traveling salesmen, wives of news reporters and journalists, and especially the wives of men deployed to the Middle East for 12-18 months are going to have much sympathy. Is your husband the target of antagonists in the church? Is he gossiped about? Is his job stressful? Again, talk with a judge who has made an unfavorable ruling, a police officer working a tough inner-city beat, a firefighter...and then thank the Lord that your husband doesn't set foot in the midst of life or death danger every day he goes to work.

So, no, I don't buy the lie that ministers' wives are especially put upon. Being a minister is no better or worse than a thousand other professions. Same with being the wife of a minister. Wives of plumbers, mechanics, physicians, chefs, merchants, sailors, etc. all have unique worries and special struggles. Yes, there are some unique stresses to being the wife of a minister, but other married women in the grand sisterhood of life CAN relate. When we link our lives to those of our husbands we also share in their vocation, for better or worse. We can decide to complain and magnify the inconveniences and negatives of their profession or we can look for the silver lining. You know, things like watching our husbands do what they were created to do. Watching them grow in their calling. Realizing that our husbands have the coolest job in the world because their interactions with people and potential impact can have eternal significance. Reveling in the joy of perfect obedience and being in the center of the will of God. Sharing in the excitement of lives being changed...or griping and complaining about hours worked, church members who annoy, and how much better a life outside of vocational ministry could have been.

Now for the loneliness/so far from family business...
I'm going to address friendship over several posts because I think it is the crux of this issue. It is also a topic I am extraordinarily passionate about and I know I will have a lot to say on the subject. Because of that, it will take me a long time and be emotionally draining so I keep putting it off. But for now, I want to briefly address the feelings of loneliness that come from being far away from family, especially during holidays and special events. I get this too. Except for a brief 2-3 month period when we were first married, we have not lived in the same city as either of our parents or siblings. The closest we lived was a 3-hour-drive. Currently we live a 19-hour-drive from both of our families. We do not celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, 4th of July, birthdays, or any other major holiday with them. In fact, my whole family, siblings included, were together last Thanksgiving and this is what they sent me:



While I was thrilled to get the photo and know that they were thinking about us, it hurts to miss them and be the only branch of the family tree missing. I know that personal jokes were made, old stories were shared, and that we missed much laughter and lots of good food. We always call our families on holidays and do the old pass-the-phone-around so I get to talk to everyone, but when I hear the laughter and cutting up in the background it hurts to miss out on that. I could sit at home with our little family of four and cry, but that would be stupid, pointless, and totally against my nature. So, here's what we do instead...



One of my spiritual gifts is hospitality and it is no mistake that I love to talk, enjoy cooking, and adore making new friends. Instead of sulking and feeling sorry for ourselves, we came to realize years ago that there are other lonely people on holidays. Now we seek them out, invite them over, and have a party! Our most consistent thing had been to invite international students from the local university over for Thanksgiving every year. These students are learning English, they are in the dorms alone during the holidays, and most of them have never been in an American home, much less participated in an American holiday. It is the ultimate cultural experience for them. It makes cooking challenging as there are often vegetarians, those who don't eat beef or pork, and even an occasional vegan. We make sure to have food that everyone can eat. We started doing this with two Indian students when we lived in Louisiana, then we had 3 Chinese teenagers our first year in Wisconsin. Last year we had students from India, China, and Japan, a professor from China and her boyfriend from Greece, as well as two transplanted families from Texas. The Texans were also pastors and church planters so they were far from family as well. Not only are we not alone for the holidays, but we get to learn about other cultures, share our traditions with others, and we get to be international missionaries simply by sharing a meal around our table. I think that really makes Jesus smile. I know it makes me smile! It is also so fun to introduce international students to Thanksgiving turkey, cranberry sauce, and green bean casserole. They usually bring food to share as well.

And today was Memorial Day. Instead of just hanging out and grilling in the backyard, my husband made a huge pot of jambalaya and we invited the entire neighborhood over, as well as some other friends and church members. We ended up with over 30 people at our house. What a joy and privilege that is! Some neighbors mentioned how they had talked about having a get together before, but nothing ever happened, so they were thrilled. It was very last minute (we invited everyone on Saturday for Monday), but we decided that we definitely will do it again. We also had some church members bring 4 new people whom we had never met. Everyone blended and meshed well and we had a great time. We just provided the jambalaya, drinks, and paper goods and had everyone else bring lawn chairs and a dish to share. We had more than enough food for everyone. Good conversation was had, new friendships were formed, neighbors got to know each other a little better, kids played in the yard, grown-ups played bocce, and the day was sweet.

So again, I don't buy the loneliness thing. You can and should certainly miss family. But if you are lonely on holidays that is not your lot in life. It is a choice. We make that choice on Christmas. We keep Christmas down to just our little family of four and we enjoy that in a whole different way. We love having a full house of friends. However, after all of the Christmas rush and hub-bub, we like a simple quiet family Christmas. We stay in our pajamas most of the day and don't have to rush to clean up the wrapping paper or get dressed. We eat a simple lunch of pastalaya, salad, homemade bread, and dessert, then we nap and go to a late matinee movie. It's our special family tradition and we don't invite anyone in to share it with us as a general rule. However, last year we had some church members who were going to be totally alone on Christmas and that's not good for anyone, so we did make an exception and invite a few extra people. They knew that it would be casual and low-key.

Bottom line on both of these issues is we get to choose to think that nothing is worse than being a pastor's wife and we are the most put upon women in the history of the world. Or... we can embrace the unique place in the world that the Lord has placed us and look for the roses among the thorns. As for me, I kinda like how the old curmudgeon Paul puts it:

Philippians 4: 11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Friday, May 28, 2010

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: PKs

To write about PKs, I went right to the source...our two sons. Over dinner a few nights ago I asked them if being a PK had ruined their lives. I took it as a good sign that they said in unison, "What's a PK?" Once I told them it meant "preacher's/pastor's kid" Noah (13 years old) quickly proclaimed that it was terrible to be a PK. When I asked why, he said it was because of all the expectations put upon him and how people treated him differently because he was a PK. When I asked for examples, he couldn't think of any. Then he back-pedaled. I think he just thought it was much dramatic to be a put upon PK and fit the stereotype. Anyway, once the real discussion ensued he and Adam both agreed that it was no big deal.

They couldn't come up with any examples or reasons why their lives have been any more difficult because their dad was a pastor. They did, however, come up with a lot of perks. For example, how many kids get to hang out with Ten Shekel Shirt all day or having Jeremy Camp take a shower in their bathroom. (They were asleep when Jeremy came over to shower before hitting the road after leading a DiscipleNOW. They were in elementary school at the time and the big question was, "Was Jeremy Camp naked in our bathroom?" I replied that since he took a shower, I thought it was a fairly reasonable assumption.) They realized that they have been the beneficiary of lots of leftover pizza, chips, and soft drinks after youth events. Adam and Noah came to the awareness that not everyone's dad can arrange his schedule to come on field trips, attend school events during the day, and take them to school. Being a PK has given them opportunities to do mission work in Nicaragua, go to cool camps when they were too young to go as campers, and meet all sorts of fascinating people.

The down side? Mostly things that our guys likely don't remember or weren't aware of because of age. We've had a couple of family holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas cut short due to pastoral emergencies like a sudden death in which Robert was asked to perform the funeral. We've have some major stresses in church that have caused us personal stress, like fighting factions, finances, and staff leaving. We have tried to never talk about these things in front of the kids and I think they have been largely shielded from them. We have moved twice, from Missouri to Louisiana and then from Louisiana to Wisconsin, since they have been old enough to be aware of moving and we have included them in the process. Once we began to seriously consider moving we told them and gave them time to process it and an opportunity for their input. We were especially worried about the move to WI since they were going into the 5th and 8th grades at the time---terrible ages to move. However, a fellow pastor and former missionary reminded us that when God calls us, He calls our children too. That has proven to be very true for us!

The jokes about PKs revolve around them going wild and sowing their oats. Certainly we have known of that happening to otherwise "good" kids. However, I don't think it is anymore likely to happen to PKs than kids whose dads have other vocations. I think the biggest risks for PKs are when their dads care more about church than family and make that evident in where they spend their time, energy, and emotion. I also think that when pastors and their wives don't practice what they preach that they are putting their kids in jeopardy of turning their backs on the church and on the Lord. Dad better be the same at home as he is behind the pulpit or trouble will be brewing. It is so imperative that we remember that our kids are not perfect and we need to release worrying about what other people think of our kids and instead just parent them as best we know how and to the glory of God. My kids had explosive diapers, threw the occasional toddler temper tantrum, got whiny when they didn't get a nap, and even embarrassed me on occasion.

The classic story of wishing a huge hole would swallow me up because I was so mortified came from the mouth of my sweet 4 year old Adam. I had recently cleaned out the bathroom closet and came across the "peri-care bottle" from when Noah was born. (TMI warning: For those not in the know, this is a squirt bottle used to clean the nether regions of a woman after childbirth and prevent infection from episiotomy stitches.). Rather than tossing out the bottle I thought it would make a fun bath-time toy for the boys so I added to the basket by the tub. When Adam asked me about it, I had always tried to be open and honest about things, so I told him in kid friendly terms what it was. I didn't give it another thought...until 4 days later. I had taken Adam to Mission Friends (a Southern Baptist program that teaches preschoolers about mission work) on a Wednesday night and was picking him up from class. When I got him his teachers were dying laughing and pulled me aside. They told me that Adam shared a prayer request during prayer time. I was thinking how wonderful it was until they told me what the request was. Adam had asked everyone to pray for my sore bottom because I had to have stitches after Noah was born. Thanks bud! Moral of the story: our little ones (and even bigger ones) are normal and need to be given the room and opportunity to be themselves. Their boisterous, lively, lovely, curious, creative, audacious, personable selves. Sure, they need boundaries and they need to behave, but not more so than any other kids. They are not perfect and no one should expect them to be. It's the mama bear's job to protect them from other people's misconceptions and constraints.

Bottom line, PKs are like other kids. Mine have griped about HAVING to go to church because Dad was a pastor until we informed them that we would still attend church and Sunday school every single Sunday even if their dad wasn't a pastor. We had non-negotiables (Sunday school, Sunday worship--morning and evening when there was an evening service, and Wednesday night). However, other things like choir, youth trips, and special activities were optional. We didn't make them go. We have tried to model an authentic life in which Christ is factored into every decision and relationship. We have allowed them to fail. We have given them responsibilities. We have made them work and encouraged them to play.

However, on the flip side, I do think it is important that PKs make their faith their own. That may involve some pulling away, a lot of questions, and some serious wrestling with God. It is crucial that our kids know Jesus as friend, confidant, brother, and Lord...not because mom and dad said so, not because they've been told in Sunday school every week, but because they have checked it out and found it to be true. Like Jacob, once they have personally wrestled with God their walk will never be the same. As PWs we have to keep them prayed up and release them to the Lord to woo and strengthen them in their faith. After all, He loves them even more than we do.

My boys have had some periods of God-wrestling and I am sure there are more to come. I hope and pray that there isn't any wild oat sowing, but that remains to be seen (or not). They are in the clear so far...at least as far as I know. However, they are teenagers and lack solid judgment and understanding of long-term consequences of their decisions, as all teens do, so that's why prayer is important. When they do mess up, which is inevitable (I just pray for little, fixable messes without devastating consequences), I hope I can respond in grace and unconditional love. I hope I can have some positive influence and continue to mold these young men in my home so that they can be hopelessly in love and recklessly abandoned to Jesus. I want them to fight injustice, love the unlovable, and believe in the impossible. I want them to find a vocation that enables them to pursue their passions and utilize their talents. If they choose to marry, I hope they will marry godly women who challenge them, love them, inspire them, and treasure them. And I do not want them to be defined by their father's profession. They deserve to be their own wonderful selves.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Honey, I'm home! (redux)

***An incomplete and unproofed version of this was accidentally posted last night. This is the (hopefully) corrected and complete version***

I posted the other day about thinking that my husband had come to some horrible end while running at night. I really don't usually sit around and think about such morbid things. As a general rule, I am not a worrier. I used to be, but Jesus freed me from that several years ago. I wouldn't say that I never worry, but certainly not to the extent that I used to. Formerly, I was one of those people who worried about things to worry about. However, there are periods of time in which I do think about what I would do if some horrible tragedy befell us.

Back when I was a young mom and we didn't have cell phones, Robert would be gone a lot in the summer due to youth ministry. He had camp and mission trips and retreats. If he was gone a week, we'd probably talk once or twice on the phone during the week. This was because he had to find a payphone, the odds of us being at home when he called were slim, etc. Also, neither one of us are big phone people. We'd rather catch up in person, face to face. I do need to know what Robert is doing every second of the day and while I miss him, I don't sit and pine away the whole time he is gone. He doesn't when I am out of town either. All of this to say, that when he is out of town I don't know where he is and what he is going at all times. I have an itinerary and I know generally when to expect him home. The situation hasn't changed much with the advent of cell phones because most camps and things are in remote areas.

So, anyone who knows anything about youth ministry knows that broken down buses and other such travel snags are par for the course. There were those times that the van was supposed to pull into the church parking lot at 7:00 pm and it's 10 and still no bus. It was those times that panic coursed through my veins. In my head I knew that they had gotten lost or had a flat tire or the event ended late, but sometimes my irrational female hysteria would take over and convince my more rational self that the van had a blowout or the bus flipped a guardrail on a bridge and everyone had plummeted to their death.

Once they finally pulled safely into town and I had given my husband a relieved hug, the pragmatist in me, had a horrifying thought...What would I really do if something tragic happened and I found myself a single parent. I don't dwell on such negative thoughts, but I was a Girl Scout, so I like to be prepared and it got me thinking. So, I started discussing it with Robert and never could come to any conclusions. It became a running joke with us. Every time he came home from being out of town without me he would ask, "So where were you going to live if something happened and I didn't make it home?"

See, here's the deal. We've always lived away from our families. We have teased our parents that we have a rule that we have to at live at least a four hour radius from them. Actually, that's been pretty accurate. At any rate, we have lived in towns and cities with no familial attachment. We lived in Missouri when I first realized that I was a man woman without a country. I loved living in the Mayberry-esque town of Carthage, MO. We had an awesome 100-year-old Victorian house on a large corner lot on Main Street. I loved that house. We had wonderful friends, Adam was at a fabulous school 1/2 a block away. We were living an awesome contented life, but I knew if I were a single parent that I probably wouldn't have stayed there. The boys were both young; they were 4 and 6 when we left Missouri. My parents were in St. Louis, four hours away, at the time. My in-laws were in Saraland, AL. I guess I would have probably moved to the St. Louis because I would have needed the support with the kids and for myself, but I had no friends there and it wouldn't have been home.

So then we moved to Baton Rouge and it was never home to me. I didn't like living in Baton Rouge at all. I tried to. I really gave it an honest shot. I would drive around and list things to be thankful for: the Spanish moss hanging from 200-year-old oaks, azaleas and camellias, awesome food, a wonderful job, our church, etc. However, the constant keeping up with the Joneses, the oppressive heat, the flying cockroaches, the traffic, the private schoolness of it all just grated on me. Although I never liked Baton Rouge, I appreciate and am very thankful for our 7 years there. We learned things that radically changed us and have totally changed our thinking about and approach to ministry. We had incredible neighbors, co-workers, youth, and friends who have graced our lives and made them richer. However, I never felt safe at night. I never felt comfortable. I never felt quite at home. I knew that if it weren't for Robert that I couldn't stay in Baton Rouge.

By this time my parents and brother were in Mobile, AL about 30 minutes away from my in-laws. I love Mobile! I went to college in Mobile, we lived there as newlyweds, we had an awesome church there, and I still had a lot of friends in Mobile, as well as family. However, it just didn't feel quite right anymore. I was a visitor now, just passing through. My sister was still in my hometown of Dothan, AL. I was born and raised in Dothan. I was there from birth until my parents moved when I was a junior in college. However, I could never go back. I just didn't (don't) fit in Dothan anymore and it doesn't fit me. There is a part of the song Painting Pictures of Egypt by Sara Groves that kind of sums up my feelings about my hometown:

But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned
.

So I remained homeless in the deep roots sense of the word. Everywhere that we had ever lived we had moved to because of either seminary or Robert's job. I enjoyed most of the places that we lived and all of the experiences. I have wanderlust, so my feet itch and I have liked moving every 6 or 7 years. However, that has left me without any place that has truly felt like home in the deep, abiding sense of the word. However, last week when I awoke in a cold sweat worried about my husband, I had an epiphany. After I was assured of his safety and well-being I fell back asleep at utter peace and in total contentment. I just realized it. Here in central Wisconsin, I am finally home.

This is where we were meant to be. This is place that our life experiences have prepared us for. We have support systems in place through our church, our neighbors, my colleagues, and our friends. Our sons are thriving in school and have a great network of friends as well. We love the community, the four seasons, the activities, and the vibe. It feels so good to finally know that I am home.

Monday, May 10, 2010

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Honey, I'm home!

***An incomplete and unproofed version of this was accidentally posted last night. This is the (hopefully) corrected and complete version***

I posted the other day about thinking that my husband had come to some horrible end while running at night. I really don't usually sit around and think about such morbid things. As a general rule, I am not a worrier. I used to be, but Jesus freed me from that several years ago. I wouldn't say that I never worry, but certainly not to the extent that I used to. Formerly, I was one of those people who worried about things to worry about. However, there are periods of time in which I do think about what I would do if some horrible tragedy befell us.

Back when I was a young mom and we didn't have cell phones, Robert would be gone a lot in the summer due to youth ministry. He had camp and mission trips and retreats. If he was gone a week, we'd probably talk once or twice on the phone during the week. This was because he had to find a payphone, the odds of us being at home when he called were slim, etc. Also, neither one of us are big phone people. We'd rather catch up in person, face to face. I do need to know what Robert is doing every second of the day and while I miss him, I don't sit and pine away the whole time he is gone. He doesn't when I am out of town either. All of this to say, that when he is out of town I don't know where he is and what he is going at all times. I have an itinerary and I know generally when to expect him home. The situation hasn't changed much with the advent of cell phones because most camps and things are in remote areas.

So, anyone who knows anything about youth ministry knows that broken down buses and other such travel snags are par for the course. There were those times that the van was supposed to pull into the church parking lot at 7:00 pm and it's 10 and still no bus. It was those times that panic coursed through my veins. In my head I knew that they had gotten lost or had a flat tire or the event ended late, but sometimes my irrational female hysteria would take over and convince my more rational self that the van had a blowout or the bus flipped a guardrail on a bridge and everyone had plummeted to their death.

Once they finally pulled safely into town and I had given my husband a relieved hug, the pragmatist in me, had a horrifying thought...What would I really do if something tragic happened and I found myself a single parent. I don't dwell on such negative thoughts, but I was a Girl Scout, so I like to be prepared and it got me thinking. So, I started discussing it with Robert and never could come to any conclusions. It became a running joke with us. Every time he came home from being out of town without me he would ask, "So where were you going to live if something happened and I didn't make it home?"

See, here's the deal. We've always lived away from our families. We have teased our parents that we have a rule that we have to at live at least a four hour radius from them. Actually, that's been pretty accurate. At any rate, we have lived in towns and cities with no familial attachment. We lived in Missouri when I first realized that I was a man woman without a country. I loved living in the Mayberry-esque town of Carthage, MO. We had an awesome 100-year-old Victorian house on a large corner lot on Main Street. I loved that house. We had wonderful friends, Adam was at a fabulous school 1/2 a block away. We were living an awesome contented life, but I knew if I were a single parent that I probably wouldn't have stayed there. The boys were both young; they were 4 and 6 when we left Missouri. My parents were in St. Louis, four hours away, at the time. My in-laws were in Saraland, AL. I guess I would have probably moved to the St. Louis because I would have needed the support with the kids and for myself, but I had no friends there and it wouldn't have been home.

So then we moved to Baton Rouge and it was never home to me. I didn't like living in Baton Rouge at all. I tried to. I really gave it an honest shot. I would drive around and list things to be thankful for: the Spanish moss hanging from 200-year-old oaks, azaleas and camellias, awesome food, a wonderful job, our church, etc. However, the constant keeping up with the Joneses, the oppressive heat, the flying cockroaches, the traffic, the private schoolness of it all just grated on me. Although I never liked Baton Rouge, I appreciate and am very thankful for our 7 years there. We learned things that radically changed us and have totally changed our thinking about and approach to ministry. We had incredible neighbors, co-workers, youth, and friends who have graced our lives and made them richer. However, I never felt safe at night. I never felt comfortable. I never felt quite at home. I knew that if it weren't for Robert that I couldn't stay in Baton Rouge.

By this time my parents and brother were in Mobile, AL about 30 minutes away from my in-laws. I love Mobile! I went to college in Mobile, we lived there as newlyweds, we had an awesome church there, and I still had a lot of friends in Mobile, as well as family. However, it just didn't feel quite right anymore. I was a visitor now, just passing through. My sister was still in my hometown of Dothan, AL. I was born and raised in Dothan. I was there from birth until my parents moved when I was a junior in college. However, I could never go back. I just didn't (don't) fit in Dothan anymore and it doesn't fit me. There is a part of the song Painting Pictures of Egypt by Sara Groves that kind of sums up my feelings about my hometown:

But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned
.

So I remained homeless in the deep roots sense of the word. Everywhere that we had ever lived we had moved to because of either seminary or Robert's job. I enjoyed most of the places that we lived and all of the experiences. I have wanderlust, so my feet itch and I have liked moving every 6 or 7 years. However, that has left me without any place that has truly felt like home in the deep, abiding sense of the word. However, last week when I awoke in a cold sweat worried about my husband, I had an epiphany. After I was assured of his safety and well-being I fell back asleep at utter peace and in total contentment. I just realized it. Here in central Wisconsin, I am finally home.

This is where we were meant to be. This is place that our life experiences have prepared us for. We have support systems in place through our church, our neighbors, my colleagues, and our friends. Our sons are thriving in school and have a great network of friends as well. We love the community, the four seasons, the activities, and the vibe. It feels so good to finally know that I am home.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives-Boundaries (Time)

The last post on boundaries was about relationships and how important it is to have boundaries with other people to prevent affairs. Likewise it is important to have boundaries about time. Ministry will suck time away from family and the very marrow from one's bones. Here's the trick about vocational ministry--when do you say no? Where do you draw the line? All ministry is good and God wants us to serve and minister to others, right? Not so fast...

Fortunately for us, every church we ever served in made family a priority over work. And as great as ministry is, when you are a pastor,at the end of the day it is a job. It's a job with a calling. A job with eternal consequences, but a job nonetheless. I remember one education pastor telling us during the interview process, "If you don't put your family first and if you can't keep it together at home, you will never be an effective minister. Family has to come first." Those are wise words and have served us well. Our take in the priority line-up is this: God/Jesus, family, church/ministry.

I think it's easy for pastors to get sucked up into busyness=ministry mindset, especially earlier in their careers. Also, many pastors are workaholics, which I personally think is a sin issue in that work and accomplishment at work become an idol. Even good stuff like ministry can become an idol if the focus is on that instead of God. I have heard many PWs complain that their husbands are never home. Sundays, esp. if a church has a morning service (or multiple ones!) and an evening service, are a total wash as far as family time goes. A PW's husband has about two hours at home max on a full Sunday. Wednesdays in a traditional church are the same. Then sometimes there are meetings, small group, deacon/elder meetings, counseling, wedding rehearsals, weddings, funerals, Rotary/Kiwanis stuff, denominational meetings, youth events, senior adult events, choir/orchestra/worship team practice, etc. Many pastors are gone every night during the week. That's simply ridiculous and frankly, unnecessary.

God said it best through His Word--one of the roles of a pastor is to equip and prepare the church members, God's people, for ministry. If the pastor isn't delegating and is trying to do everything himself, then he is forfeiting one of his responsibilities.
Ephesians 4:11 It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, 12 to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up 13 until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.


So if a pastor feels compelled to be at church every time the door is open, he is first and foremost neglecting his calling as a husband and father. Furthermore, he is not upholding his biblical calling to "equip the saints." I get it. I like to be in control too. However, people don't learn how to do ministry without being mentored and then thrust into it. Church members can run meetings and whole ministries, do visitation, organize, plan, etc. It just involves the pastor doing some teaching and then stepping back. I know that when Robert was out of town as a youth minister and I stayed home and attended Wednesday night youth worship, we both were thrilled when the youth and youth workers could run the sound system and powerpoint, lead the worship band, speak, and the clean-up without any assistance from us. I got to see it happen! I didn't help much because I was coming off of work and getting my kids situated. I would just arrive and it all happened because Robert had taken the time to teach them how to do it. Similar things have happened with our church plant. We have to set up from scratch in an elementary school gym each Sunday. Our core group of people move and work together like a fine oil machine even when Robert is gone. It is a thing of beauty!!

In addition to equipping others to minister, pastors need to take care of themselves physically, emotionally, and spiritual and be available to their families. There are plenty of biblical precedents for this, but I'll share two.


Moses' father-in-law was a wise man, no?

Exodus 18: 13 The next day Moses took his seat to serve as judge for the people, and they stood around him from morning till evening. 14 When his father-in-law saw all that Moses was doing for the people, he said, "What is this you are doing for the people? Why do you alone sit as judge, while all these people stand around you from morning till evening?" 15 Moses answered him, "Because the people come to me to seek God's will. 16 Whenever they have a dispute, it is brought to me, and I decide between the parties and inform them of God's decrees and laws." 17 Moses' father-in-law replied, "What you are doing is not good. 18 You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone. 19 Listen now to me and I will give you some advice, and may God be with you. You must be the people's representative before God and bring their disputes to him. 20 Teach them the decrees and laws, and show them the way to live and the duties they are to perform. 21 But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. 22 Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you. 23 If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied."


And modern day pastors think they are busy? Jesus was preaching, teaching, healing, casting out demons, etc., but even He knew that He couldn't do it all and that He was worthless if He didn't spend time refueling through communion with His Father and rest.

Luke 5: 15Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. 16 But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.


Scandalous! Jesus walked away from ministry to meet with His Daddy and talk. There is always one more good, noble, godly thing that any of us could be doing. However, sometimes God wants us to rest. Sometimes He wants us to say NO because He wants someone else to assume the responsibility. Sometimes He wants us to teach someone else to take over the task. If we don't talk to Him, and more importantly, listen to Him, we'll never know.

If you are a church member reading this, check in with your pastor. Make sure that he isn't at the church more than 1-2 evenings a week and that he is making rest and family a priority. Find ways to encourage him to do so, including helping to hook his family up with a babysitter so he can date his wife. Make him REALLY take 2 days off a week in which he doesn't darken the door of the church and in which he only responds to emergency phone calls. (FYI, needing keys to the church, wondering if a certain book is in the church library, and complaining about another church member aren't emergencies).

Pastors and wives, guard and covet time off. Make it non-negotiable. Write it in the planner and consider it as a meeting or event that can't be rescheduled. Spend time playing together as a family, riding bikes, playing a board game, going to a movie. Take naps. Go fishing. Date each other without the kids (you should be able to find great babysitters through your youth group or college ministry) and go on a weekend trip without the kids at least once a year. Use up all of your vacation time. If you can't afford to go somewhere, then do a staycation and visit another church in a neighboring town on Sunday so that you don't sucked into working. Hint: Pastors, it is a big thrill for your wives to actually get to sit next to you in church because it never happens in "real life." Bonus--you get some new ideas and get to see how different places do church.

Guard time for your own mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health and make family a priority. You'll last a whole lot longer that way than if you are running on the church hamster wheel.