I didn’t really think I was up for this job.
I mean, everyone wants to be a pastor’s wife, right?
We’d all like to have their kids watched in such a way that makes the bee-watchers in that old Dr. Seuss book seem HARMLESS.
Some people like being watched. They have an “If you’re gonna watch me, then I’ll watch you right back” type of attitude. Others who are watched want to go crawl into a very dark cave…on a little island far far away that no one has ever heard of.
I’m just a normal t-shirt and jeans girl. For special occasions I pull out my “good” t-shirt and jeans…and then for weddings and things I have even better jeans. (Just kidding)
That’s okay though, because I think I won the Pastor jack-pot. God gave me Michael, who lets me be me. Even though that means being married to a casual, jeans wearing, rebel-type pastor’s wife. He has let me find my little place at church and encourages me and cares for me. Like a best friend. God knew what I needed.
Long ago I had wondered if Michael would jump ship from the fishing boat (think day fishing in Baja California) of youth ministry to the crabbing hauler (on that show “Deadliest Catch”) of senior pastor.
I have not been on either of those boats, they both seem dangerous and no one should be out in the open sea, VERY DANGEROUS, what with sea creatures and waves and all.
I think I knew it for sure the day he went to start seminary. It was a little like in Job…”the thing I feared has come to pass”. But just a little. It seemed far away.
Fast forward several years, and suddenly people were asking me things like “How do you feel about becoming a pastor’s wife?” And I would say “well…it’s sort of the same as being a youth pastor’s wife…only creepier”.
I mean, he still has to eat, and have clean clothes, and be smiled at.
He will want me to keep trying to teach our children to love God, each other, and people…the same people who take their Dad away at inconvenient times. And that means they will need a good example…
We will still care about people and have them to our home. They will just be bigger…
He will still want me to be right next to him at church. To smile at him, to squeeze his hand, and to tell him what a great job he’s doing.
Then last year I got to find out what it was like for real.
I found out that God gives strength to the weary…the Bible says it and now I know it is true.
But I only have that strength as I need it.
I don’t really like that. I like to plan ahead. I like to feel like I have strength for next week…right now. But now I know this:
God gives incredible peace. He is faithful, even when we are not.
As a teen I read a funny book about a pastor’s wife. (Back when I was planning to never marry a Pastor). I love how it begins:
“Papa was an old-fashioned preacher. He preached the word of God straight from the Bible, without regard for personalities or consequences.”
I love how Michael is like this. Then again, he is not. He cares about delivering the Word of God without diluting it, but you can also sense how he cares about his listeners and where they might be in life. And I love him for it.
One of my favorite parts of this job is that I get to hang out with the pastor…talking about life, church, grass, kids, beef stew, Italians, Dutch pride, pound cake, Latin roots, whatever…
And I love that he practices what he preaches. Not in a perfect way, in a human, we-all-mess-up-way. That makes what he says on Sunday very real and practical, because he tries to live it, and walk closely with God…
So, what do I think about being a pastor’s wife? I think that if that’s what God has for us, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.