The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: What a great idea...

As any pastor's wife knows, there are a lot of people in a church who come up with laundry lists of things that the church should do or needs to do or ought to do. However, the secret translation of Susie Q-concerned-and-involved-Church Member's statement, "Our church really needs to do X. It would be such a great ministry," is "Why don't you start and coordinate X because I want it to happen, but I don't want to do the work." Basically they are saying, "I have a great idea...for you to implement."

This wonderful, refreshing, and astounding thing about our 2 year old church plant is that this never happens. Ever. Instead people say things like:

*Would it be okay if I get everything organized so that we can participate in the community-wide "Make a Difference" Day?
So one 23-year-old who was not yet a believer (that has since changed, glory to God!) got us registered with the city, made sign up sheets, contacted everyone, and here was the result. We raked 3 different yards of people unable to do so and had a great time together doing it...in the rain even!


...or this

*Hey Robert, since we always have a cookout and party every time someone is baptized and you do all of the shopping, why don't you just let me handle it?
And so one of our patriarchs took another college student with him and they bought all of the food and saved my husband a lot of time and headache. Not only that, but these particular baptisms took place outside in a river...in the fall...in Wisconsin. This means it was cold! It was cold for those of us who didn't get in the water and even colder for those who did. So, this wonderful gentleman at our church and his accomplice not only bought and cooked the food to grill out, but he purchased a camp stove (with his own money) and they made two huge pots of soup. What a blessing!


...and then

*Would it be okay if we went caroling to a nursing home? Then I was thinking that we could come back to church a little early and all eat chili together. Then this family, who has only been attending our church since August coordinated the caroling, had everyone sign up for chili and the fixings, provided song books and music, and organized the meeting times and places. My husband and I did nothing but make a pot of chili like everyone else and then we showed up.

Caroling


Chili eating


Wow! I've been married to a pastor for 20 years and in no church before have I ever seen the body of Christ really use their different giftings and serve in such a wonderful way. And these are only a few examples. We had a college student couple organize day for us to clean up the playground at a Section 8 housing complex and play with the children there. We had people take over nursery duty, set up policies and guidelines, and coordinate that. People volunteer to make homemade goodies for the hospitality table week after week after week.


Indeed we are spoiled very blessed and challenged by these wonderful people!

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Waiting

I've heard some murmuring of this issue recently and have experienced it myself, so I thought I would address it in print today.

What do you do when you are not happy in the church where your husband pastors?

Been there, done that twice. When you figure that my husband has been a full-time vocational pastor in four different churches, that equals 50%. Those aren't good odds. For the record, I wasn't unhappy the whole time we were at either church. In fact there were some really wonderful times at both places. However, for a total of the 13 years he served in these two churches, three of the years were very challenging and, at times, downright miserable.

(For the record, for any former church members who may be reading this, one of the churches is obvious, the other not so much. I am leaving out some details to intentionally be a bit cryptic and not provide absolute identification. And...I'm not saying which is which.)

So at this one church we were plugging along, life was good, and out of the blue Robert was asked to interview for a position as a youth minister is a "hip, progressive church" in a Big City. This interview was totally unsolicited as we were content and not looking to leave. We had started to have the very slightest intuition of some things at our church, but nothing out of the ordinary that would cause us to leave. However, Robert decided to test the waters and he interviewed. Everything went well and they invited him back for the second interview with me and the kids in tow. They paid for all of us to go to Big City and we spent the weekend doing the couple interviews and the "we're checking out how well behaved your kids are and are also secretly making judgments about your parenting skills" interview. The boys were well taken care of and had a great time. We were wined and dined (well, not wined...it was a Baptist church, after all) and enjoyed getting to know everyone on the search committee. We loved everything about the people and the church. Plus...they were offering Robert big bucks. More than double his current salary and a salary pretty much unheard of for a youth minister in those days. The funny thing is the night of the big couple interview when everything had gone SO well---we liked them and they liked us--we got in the car to drive back to the hotel and we looked at each other and simultaneously said, "No." To this date, it remains one of the most obvious that-was-God-talking moments of our life together. Everything was perfect on paper and in experience, but for some reason, in our guts, we both felt that it wasn't the right time or place.

Fast forward a few months. Church members are starting to come to Robert with complaints about the senior pastor. This puts a youth minister is a very tricky position. He was diplomatic and always had the senior pastor's back. However, he was starting to sense truth in some of the complaints, mostly related to lying. Over time he was having trouble serving underneath the authority of someone he didn't respect and couldn't trust. Of course, Robert couldn't share this with anyone in church or any friend in the community. It was our horrible secret.

We prayed, Robert started having some significant stomach problems and weight loss from the stress of working with this man, and we were both frustrated and angry. I hated sitting in the pew every Sunday looking at this man preach, knowing full well other details which made me hold no esteem for him. The thought that he was preaching the Word of God and living such a double life repulsed me. I hated going to church. We started praying about leaving. Robert had a good reputation throughout the state as a youth minister and could have had any number of new positions. However, God told us to be patient, wait, and stay. STAY!??! In these conditions? Yes. The answer was clear.

During this time God taught me that even though the messenger may be living a life of sin, His Word never returns void. Every Sunday I would tune out the pastor's words and focus on the scripture and prayer. God taught me a whole lot while I sat in that pew. There was a big positive change in me. We waited it out for a whole year, before we felt that it was okay to move on. It felt so incredible to be free from that burden! I, being vindicative at heart, wanted Robert to out this man to the church after we left. That wouldn't have been productive though. Robert did confront him. He ultimately was "found out" for other issues and was forced out.

The other experience was at a church that split. Splits are never pleasant and this was no exception. However, we both knew again that we weren't supposed to leave. The church service dwindled to a third of what it had been and our youth group of over a hundred kids was down to the high teens and twenties. It was a time of feeling defeated and broken down. The joy was gone. However, Jesus never said He wanted us to be happy. The Bible doesn't guarantee a life of ease. In fact, Jesus told us quite the opposite.

John 16:33 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

We were ready, willing, and able to leave. We wanted to move on. God said, "Wait on me." Ugh! As uncomfortable and frustrating as it can be at times, there really is no better place than in the center of God's will. So we waited...for two years. During those two years more staff left. Robert was covering work of others who had left. The work at church was disheartening because the numbers were down so much and the wind was knocked out of everyone's sails, staff and church members alike. Rumors were running rampant and there was no joy in Mudville. Robert had promised the youth that he wasn't going anywhere and wouldn't even consider looking until a new senior pastor was found. Almost two years later and still pastorless, we both felt released to start looking at other options. Godcidentally, a new SP was hired about two months before we left. God's timing is perfect. Every time.

Personal lessons I learned:
*Happiness is dependent on circumstances. Joy is dependent on a relationship with Jesus. Joy is where I want to be.
*It's much easier to hang onto Jesus when He's all you have.
*God's timing is frustrating and nonsensical from where we are sitting sometimes, but it is always perfect.
*There are great lessons to be learned about oneself and the character and nature of God during times of trial.
*There are few things more heartbreaking than to watch your husband be defeated and broken and be helpless to do anything about it.
*I learned to be content (not happy) during very bad times.
*God really does speak. We just have to be listening.

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Friendship 102-My Rusty Halo

I started talking about friendships of pastors' wives in this post. Pastors and their wives frequently report a lack of friends as one of their top stressors. However, many well-intentioned articles, books, and seminars will vigorously assert that pastors and their wives can't and shouldn't have friends among their church members. Here's one such article from Focus on the Family. One quote from this article is:

Search for friends outside your church. Other ministers' wives in your community, parents of your children's peers or women who share similar activities (i.e., craft classes, local fitness center) may offer great friendship, as well as an environment for non-church related conversation and fun. Friends you make here will not face the obstacle of knowing you as their pastor's wife.

There are many reasons given for why PWs should not have friends in church. I'll try to hit them all over subsequent posts. However, in this post I will focus on a very reason that I have heard from many a PW. It is this:

I can't have friends among church members because if they knew my struggles they wouldn't be able to respect me and look up to my leadership and that of my husband. (This are also usually the same people who insist on being called "Pastor/Reverend/Brother" and "Mrs." rather than first names).

There are many, many thinks wrong with this vein of thinking in my opinion. First of all, the last time I checked, Jesus Christ was the only sinless perfect human to walk the earth. We all have struggles. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). Is it really startling and shocking to let someone else see the chink in our armor? To find out that, alas, we are all merely human? Personally I find it therapeutic to find out that someone has the same struggles, insecurities, and "favorite" sins as me. C.S. Lewis says, "Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: What! You too? I thought I was the only one." Also, we are biblically commanded to bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2). If we don't share them with anyone else, how can they help bear them?

I have a great example of this to share and one of my most profound moments of being ministered to by a church member. At one church where my husband was a youth minister I was going through a very difficult time personally. The details aren't important and are way too personal to share and the issues have long since been resolved. However, I was in a long dark night-time of the soul kind of place. I received one piece of information that pushed me even deeper into the abyss. I was bawling my head off and then I went for a long drive. I got home and was still sobbing uncontrollably. I asked my husband if he would call Nancy for me and ask if I could go to her house and talk to her. I need to explain to convey how bizarre this request was. Nancy and I weren't particularly close. She was an older church member, probably about 10 years older or so than my parents. I knew her casually and we had been a Ladies Bible Study together. She lived on the street behind me in a huge restored Victorian mansion. I had never been to her house, I just knew where she lived. However, I knew that she had lived through a similar experience as to what I was going through because of something she shared in Bible study. I knew I needed to talk to her. My husband had to make the call because I was crying so uncontrollably that I couldn't talk.

It was almost 10:00 on a weeknight. Horrible timing! And as I subsequently found out, she was packing to head out of town the next day AND her husband's company (he owned a large factory in town) was in turmoil because the workers had gone on strike that day. This was not a good time for her. She didn't tell me any of that. I found out after the fact. She urged me to come on over. I got to her house and was a mess of ugly crying--splotchy face, swollen eyes, runny nose, dry sobs. She met me at the door and I burst into fresh tears while she just hugged me and held on. I'm sure her shirt was covered with my snot and tears. After I regained a little composure I talked and talked and she listened. She gave me some advice, told me some of her story, but mostly she listened...and prayed with me. I left and several days later received a bouquet of flowers with a very special card indicating that she "got" me. She understood the place I was in and the emotions I was feeling. That was honestly one of the most significant experiences of my life. She saw the ugly core of me and raw, naked emotion and she loved me anyway. I got to share my burden (and it really did take so much weight off my shoulders) and she had an opportunity to minister to me. Isn't that what "church" is about? Pastors are supposed to be equipping the church members to do the work of the church. She did! Win-Win. If I had been too proud to convey my need and my pain to her, she would have never had the opportunity to care for me and I never would have been blessed by her ministry to me. She lost no "respect" for me in the process. In fact, we did become friends and later took a roadtrip across the state together.

I think when we share our struggles together that we can hold one another accountable, pray for each other, and encourage one another. Instead of trying to lift ourselves up and appear perfect to the rest of the world, we should adopt the attitude of persecuter-turned-renegade-missionary, Paul. In I Timothy 1 Paul says

15Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life.

Paul was eager to share his story and his life with those he ministered to. I don't think that any of us should dwell in some cesspool of poor choices and low self-esteem, but sharing our struggles with sin and our victories as well seems pretty biblical. In Hebrews 10 we are urged to continue to meet together to encourage one another. Inside that part of the function of the bride of Christ? In one church that my husband served in as youth minister we had a senior pastor who openly admitted his addiction to internet pornography and the steps he had taken and accountability measures he had in place. This just made me respect him more. We know that pornography is one of the biggest temptations and sins among men period, but also among pastors. There is some solidarity and comfort in knowing that you aren't the only person sitting in the pew (or behind the pulpit) dealing with the issue, I would imagine. We (in ministry) always want church members to feel comfortable, to be able to open up and share themselves, to be vulnerable, etc. and then when are shocked when they attend our church, but go to another church for counseling. Why do they do this? Because they don't want their pastor to know that their marriage is one the rocks or that their teenager is on drugs. Maybe if the pastor and his wife made the first step to be vulnerable, not as some gimmick and show, but in real, personal, genuine friendships, then the culture of the church would change.

All in know is that I have repeatedly broken this rule about no friends in church. I've done it again and again and again. Have I been hurt? Yes, but opening your heart to someone else always comes with the risk of being hurt. But...no risk, no reward. And the good far outweighs the bad.

More myth-busting later...

The Secret Lives of Pastors' Wives: Friendship 101-Silver and Gold

Carol, Bart, Yoshi-Bart's guide dog, Robert, and me

This is a picture of us with our dear friends, Bart and Carol Pierce. We broke an unwritten ministry rule when we became friends with them. At the time of our initial befriending...hang on, it's pretty scandalous...dare I admit the taboo? Okay, *deep breath*, my husband was a youth minister, their son was in the youth group, and they were mere church members. *GASP!*

I can't tell you how many times I have had other pastors' wives tell me that I should never make friends among the congregation of our church. Thankfully I have never heeded this silly, outdated, and frankly, un-scriptural, advice. I'm a renegade that way. The reasons that some PWs are taught (sometimes in seminary, sometimes by other PW mentors) not to befriend church members (CMs) are many. Here are some of the most common:

*CMs won't look up to you and respect you if they really know you (e.g., if they know that I yell at my kids, question God, miss a quiet time with God, argue with my husband, eat a pint of ice cream by myself, don't dust often, have Twisted Sister on my iPod--good running music, etc.)
*CMs will hurt me. They'll be friends at first, but if I really open myself up to them they will use it against me and I'll be hurt in the process
*CMs are out to get me and my husband. They just want to be friends because they want to get the dirt on us and then have control over us.
*CMs are users. They want to get to know us so they can use us to improve their position in the church and/or say "Look at me! I'm friends with the pastor."
*CMs can't be really good friends, because they can't relate to the stresses and demands of ministry. Best to find someone who can understand.

Isn't that horrible, negative, and depressing? If I can't be friends with CMs, then who can I be friends with? The pre-approved friends list for PWs includes other PWs, friends who live out of town, and maybe some community members. However, the general community must be handled carefully because those people might be friends with some of my CMs and then there could be a sharing of information. Not only do I believe this is hogwash, but I also believe that this is a lie straight from the pit of hell. Satan likes nothing more than the cause division among a group of believers. However, I believe that God smiles when the people in His church truly love one another and share their lives with each other. Generally, most of my best and dearest friends have been regular ol' church members in the churches we have served.

So back to Bart and Carol. There are those handful of friends who will always be among the best and dearest. Bart and Carol are among that select group. I remember learning as a Girl Scout/Brownie a song that we sang in a round: "Make new friends, but keep the old. Some are silver and the others, gold." The Pierces are gold. Pure gold friends. Friendship has been tested now by distance, through disability, and through differing viewpoints of some political and theological issues. However, we have all seen each other when we just wake up in the morning, when we are crying, and when we get the late-night silly giggles. We have weathered some hard storms together. We have seen each others snap at our spouses and lose our cool with our kids. Bart and Carol have not only seen our dirty laundry, both figuratively and literally, but they know all of the skeletons in our closets and I'm pretty sure we know at least most of theirs.

Here's the thing though. To me it's not weird at all that we were friends with church members. They unusual thing about our friendship to me is our age difference...and that's the beautiful thing too. Isn't it bizarre and wonderful the people that God sees fit to place in our lives and knit our souls together with? Our first experience with the Pierces was actually through their son, Matt. We were living in Missouri at the time and they moved to Missouri from Kansas. Robert and I were 27 years old, this was Robert's first full-time position, and he was the youth minister at our church. I was a stay-at-home mom, Adam was a toddler, and Noah was not yet a twinkle in his father's eye. Matt was in my 10th grade Sunday school (what a fun class that was!--and the first time I realized that I wasn't scared of teenagers) and became involved in the youth group. Sarah was only in 6th grade at the time, so she didn't get involved in the youth group until the next year. Bart and Carol started out helping with the youth and that's how we initially got to know them. We had fun with them and really liked them, but they were parents of youth and we were just young pups with a baby and (thought we) had nothing in common with them. We did end up at their house a fair amount because they had an awesome finished basement and hosted a lot of youth events there...or Matt and Sarah just had parties with their friends and invited us too. Then, because neither of us had family in town, we started getting together on Christmas night and having a birthday party for Jesus. By this time, we all realized that we all just enjoyed spending time together and it was no longer taboo for us to simply go out to dinner on a double date sans kids and just have a good time. Here's the kicker though...Bart and Carol are just a very few years younger than our parents.

This is something we don't often discuss because it doesn't matter in the slightest. However, initially, it was very odd to me. I remember going off to college and making friends who were my sister's age. She had always seemed so much older than me because she is 5.5 years older. That was a huge difference when I was a 6th grader and she was a senior, but not so much of a difference by college. However, Bart does have a child from a first marriage who is our age. He and Carol married later and had children a little later than many and their kids keep them young. I don't even ever think about the difference in our ages anymore, but it was strange when they met our parents because they are closer in age to them than to us. However, having friends at a whole different place in life than us has been such a rich and rewarding experience. I taught their daughter Sarah how to drive and when they were here it was bizarre for them to see Adam driving now. Their kids are 30 and 26. Ours are 16 and 13.

Carol and I have been roomies at many conferences over the years and Bart and Robert have gone fishing and also backpacked through Colorado together. We have spent holidays together, including a Christmas when they came down to Baton Rouge. Carol and I used to have slumber parties and she was the person who helped me do the final cleaning when we moved out of our house in Missouri to move to Louisiana. They were defenders of Robert's youth ministry, they were supporters in the church, and they have been friends through it all. Robert has seen Bart and Carol a couple of times over the past few years when he has met them in Chicago to see some of Matt's productions. However, I haven't seen them in probably 3-4 years. I keep up with generally where they are and what they are doing either through their kids on Facebook or Robert talks to Bart occasionally on the phone. I hate to talk on the phone and Carol isn't a big fan either, so we go long stretches without talking to each other. However, they were just here for a week and we picked up where we left off. There was nothing weird or awkward about our time together. We just jumped in and got straight to the hard, vulnerable, emotional subjects and heard one anothers' hearts. We laughed a lot. Matt came up for a couple of days and we got to spend some great quality time with him too. We spent the night at the house they were renting twice, had them over for meals twice and went out to eat. Carol and I took a couple of long walks together and Bart and Robert did a lot of fishing. They got to attend our new church plant. Bart got to share with my counseling class at the university about losing his sight. We just got to hang out and be. Some of the best times were in the morning at their rented lake house with everyone in jammies and bedhair, drinking coffee, and talking.

So being friends with church members? Absolutely! More on why I think that it's not only okay, but is actually advisable in a later post.

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.

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.

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.