A Message from Mary for the Ministry

I usually enter the Christmas season with excitement and anticipation. The sights and sounds and smells. A thoroughly planned 25 days of celebration. A decorated home. Christmas music endlessly playing. Oh my, I’m still a kid at heart when it comes to Christmas. Last week, on the second day of Christmas to be precise, I woke to start my day feeling sad, anxious. So much hurt going on around. Christmas was not in my heart. So I went to Mary’s story. I usually do some kind of Christmas devotion during December and I’m taking my Sunday school class through women of the Bible so Mary just seemed logical. Her story becomes so commonplace as we hear the Nativity Story every year, but God gave me a fresh look at her. That’s what I love about His Word. So today, I want to share with you what God spoke to my heart that morning.

I want us to just stop. Be still. And think about this. The Savior of the World entered the world through the womb of a woman. Wow. That should blow us away as women. Read Mary’s story once again:

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!” Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!” Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.” The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.” Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. Luke 1:26-38

“God sent.” Perhaps that seems like an obvious statement, but it is huge. It declares to us the personal and purposeful work of our God. Notice the first two verses. Three prophecies. And there was one woman in this world that met the requirements to fulfill them. What struck me about this seemingly obvious statement, was how general I tend to think of God’s working. Yet how incredibly specific and personal He works. There will of course never be another Mary. But we are all Mary’s. Think about that in the ministry where God has placed you. Only you can fulfill the role of where you are. God is not random. He doesn’t just stick us in spots. He sees who you are and places you where only you can carry out that ministry.

“Confused and disturbed.” Are there any two better words to describe ministry life? If an angel appeared to me, freaked out would probably better describe my reaction. But what a declaration. To hear a message from God saying that you are highly favored? Humbling. What’s most incredible is Gabriel’s next statement, “Do not be afraid.” I love that the angel acknowledges her fear. He actually says this phrase to every character of the Nativity story. Joseph. Zecharius. Shepherds. I discovered something in my study of this passage. This phrase has a two part meaning. Brace yourself. Seriously. It rocked my world. The first meaning is “to put to flight by terrifying, to scare away.” Girls, the message to Mary was, Do not run away from God, from this calling. Oh but it gets even better! The second part of this meaning is “to treat with deference, to yield out of reverence.” Mary, stay. Stay and submit to your God. Isn’t this ministry life? God invading our lives. With every move. Every new role. Every out of our comfort task. Every new relationship. God saying, I want you for this role. This terrifying and confusing thing. And we respond in one of two ways. We submit and stay. Or we are scared away. Don’t run away from Him.

“I am the Lord’s servant.” Mary submitted and stayed. No wonder God chose her. There’s no freak out. No laundry list of questions, just one simple logistical question. No conditions. No answers. And still this response. Her statement pierces with conviction my meager faith. In one simple response, “May it be done to me as you have said,” this young woman believes the unbelievable. She sacrifices her social standing, choosing faith over fear. She surrenders to her Savior, choosing courage over comfort. She serves her Savior, choosing His plan over her own. This statement leaves me longing for such simple surrender in my own heart. Faith over fear. Courage over comfort. Desire over doubt. I wonder, how was she able? How am I able?

Continue with her story:
A few days later Mary hurried to the hill country of Judea, to the town where Zechariah lived. She entered the house and greeted Elizabeth. At the sound of Mary’s greeting, Elizabeth’s child leaped within her, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth gave a glad cry and exclaimed to Mary, “God has blessed you above all women, and your child is blessed. Why am I so honored, that the mother of my Lord should visit me? When I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. She who has believed is blessed because what was spoken to her by the Lord will be fulfilled.”

“She who has believed.” That’s it. That’s how she chose to surrender. This phrase literally means “to place confidence in, to entrust, to trust God is able.” Rather than look at the impossibilities, the circumstances, the humiliation, the risk, she looked at Him. She placed her confidence in what she knew to be true about her God. That He is faithful and able. I realized something through the meaning of this one little word. Fear is based on circumstances. Faith is based on Christ. She honestly had no answers. She still had to go back and face a village of scoffers and gossipers. Possibly a ruined betrothal. It was all on the line for her. And she chose to say yes simply because of who He is. Honestly, that’s not always enough for me. Because my confidence is misplaced in my circumstances and comfort. I need answers first. I need to know the outcome. The risk. The reward. She just needed Him.

Let’s continue Mary’s message by looking at her praise:

Mary responded,
“Oh, how my soul praises the Lord. How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior! For he took notice of his lowly servant girl, and from now on all generations will call me blessed. For the Mighty One is holy, and he has done great things for me. He shows mercy from generation to generation to all who fear him. His mighty arm has done tremendous things! He has scattered the proud and haughty ones. He has brought down princes from their thrones and exalted the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away with empty hands. He has helped his servant Israel and remembered to be merciful. For he made this promise to our ancestors, to Abraham and his children forever.” Mary stayed with Elizabeth about three months and then went back to her own home. Luke 1:39-56

“How my soul praises.” Keep in mind the doubts and dishonor surrounding her situation. Yet, Mary chose to worship rather than worry. She chose to see honor rather than shame. She focused on Him rather than them. The scoffers and gossipers had no place in her heart. Because her heart was filled and focused on the Savior. May this be our hearts this Christmas. We choose worship over worry. We choose to stay and surrender. We focus on Him rather than them. He is God with us. With you. God, who left eternity to give us eternal life. Who unrobed His glory to be robed in rags. Who wrapped Himself in flesh to wrap us in righteousness. The Savior who enters and dwells within. The Mighty One truly has done great things for you. This Christmas, allow your soul to proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Rejoice in God your Savior. This Christmas, seek the One who seeks you. And ask for a heart that says, “I am your servant. May it be done to me according to Your will.” And birth the presence of Christ in the place where God has called you.

A Thankful Heart is a Happy Heart

In the wise words of Jr. Asparagus, I have learned that his sweet little song, the song I’ve made into a rap to bust out when my kids start complaining, is so very true. For many of us, this has been a hard year in the ministry. Well, actually I think ministry is always hard. Over the past few weeks, God has been reminding me of how good it is to be in the ministry. Or perhaps I’ve just had my eyes open to see? In any case, in celebration of Thanksgiving, I thought I would share why I am thankful to be in the ministry. I hope this will inspire you to make your own list. It is so easy to focus on all the things we despise about being in the ministry. I’ve seen in my own heart that that only creates a heart of discontentment. Not to dismiss the realities of the difficulties that come with serving in ministry, but when my heart is thankful, my heart is content. So, here goes:

1. My husband has Friday’s off work! And the kids are in school so even when he’s had a busy week in the office and is having to catch up on seminary work, we still have a quiet house to ourselves. Not many “normal” jobs provide such a luxury!
2. Not many people get to say, I personally know an Olympic Bobsledder that’s on the 2014 American Team….and I got to teach her in my Sunday School class. Go Britany and Team USA!
3. I am an automatic go to for women who are hurting. My “title” brings automatic trust. I love that the young lady, who is a college student and regular attender while living in town for school, had a safe person to pull out of church Sunday to share her broken heart with. She isn’t having to walk through her tragedy alone while she lives 4 states away from family.
4. I help my husband help many couples through marriage struggles so I have the joy of seeing God’s restoration in so many lives.
5. I love seeing people relax when they find out I’m “normal.” I’m still not sure why people assume that I’m a superwoman or that I’ve always had a perfect Polyanna life, but just the other day I experienced a woman burst into tears when she found out the I, the pastors’ wife, didn’t grow up in a happy Christian home but a sad, broken home and somehow because of who I am, that gave her great hope. Yes, God can use anyone. Even a mess like me.
6. The church building is my kids’ second home. Shhh, they get to run in the building when no one else is there! And they know all the secret hiding spots!
7. We get to see God change lives. On a regular basis. That. Is. Awesome.
8. Sometimes knowing all the behind the scenes stuff can be exhausting but you know what, I’m glad I do because I also get to see God answer specific prayers and I get see His work. It’s kind of fun being “in the know.” I’ve learned to see it as this secret conversation that God and I have.
9. I absolutely love seeing God work in and through my husband. There is no greater joy as a wife. I love that I share in this sisterhood of seeing God work in our husbands in supernatural ways.
10. I love that my kids have the special privilege of getting to pick the pastors’ brain with all those random Bible trivia facts and those questions that people wish they could ask the pastor. I had to make ask my husband and our oldest son to stop their discussion at 10pm the other night, because it was a school night!
11. I love knowing that my role in the life of my husband carries such significance. He depends on my prayers, my encouragement, my discernment. Among 300+ people, I am his safe place and I love that.
12. I love being loved by so many people; precious widows and elderly, sweet kids, and wonderful families. Who else gets this joy?!
13. I love the accountability. I know my walk has to be real and authentic. And I know first-hand what it means to be desperate for His strength, His wisdom, His peace. I can’t do this without Him and I love that He allowed me to have a life that would require me to need Him in everything all the time. I would be too self-sufficient, otherwise.
14. I love seeing God’s Word come alive in the hearts of people for which I’ve spent so much time praying. Nothing is more worthwhile or wonderful than that!
15. I love that God, in the smallest ways and what seem like the smallest needs, answers such specific prayers for me, His daughter. I would not have so many opportunities to experience His personal love and delight for me if I didn’t have to depend on Him so greatly…the ministry is what provides that relationship that He and I have. And I love that. I love that He will lay on the heart of a church member to text me something that carries more significance than they could ever know because I know it was a love note from God. I love that when I’m worried to death about something coming together that He takes care of every little detail, just for me. I love that I know Him as my Hiding Place in a way that I would never have known had we not been called into the ministry. Ministry has helped me fall in love with Him more because I see Him every day, in so many ways, at work in my life and in the life of our church. Now that is something to be thankful for.

God Is Real

This thought captivates my heart as I sit in my quiet house this morning. God is real. Oh sure, I know this intellectually. I know this in my heart. But I do not know that I know this fully. If I did, how differently I would live and think. Move and breathe.

A few weeks ago, my husband said to me, “I’m learning to look at things from Heaven’s throne rather than my perspective.” I’ve been thinking about that. And this reality, God is Real, is invading me. You see, I struggle. I struggle with “being in the ministry” being enough. I’ve sacrificed enough. Given enough. Believe me, I have my laundry list of what I’ve given up, so I’m not willing to give up more. More comfort. More strongholds. More idols. More other than Him affections. More sacrifice. I’ve gone far enough with Him. And I’ve stopped Him from asking more of me. I like my comforts and my control. I feel entitled to hold them. But I’m learning that I have none. Because of this thought. God is real. Every hero I have in His Word knew this. It occurs to me, they were no hero’s at all. They simply knew this one thing: God is real. Abraham left. Joseph. Moses. Nehemiah. David. Hannah. Daniel. Ruth. Mary. Peter. Paul. Matthew. John. They didn’t need to know anything because this one reality removes everything else from our hearts. Every fear. Every doubt. Every limitation and stipulation we put on Him. Everything. God asked of them what was most dear to them and they said yes to Him.

God is real. In my gut, I know it. For some reason this, real as the chair I’m sitting in, reality changes everything. Suddenly, I see the places of my heart I’m holding. And He’s not reigning. And it overwhelms me to realize that I really don’t believe He is real. If I did, I would hold on to nothing. Nothing but Him. The control I want to have of my life. From the throne of this Real God, that is stripped away. And the status and success and approval and validation I seek, they are merely dead idols created by my human hands. In my church going, ministry living, good girl life, how have I missed this? How am I just learning this? Of course, this pastors’ wife knows God is real. I’ve given up my “normal” life for Him. But for the first time, I see that in my own heart, I do not live as if He really were real. Because in my heart, there is still dead. There is still comfortable captivity. My soul has been saved but my heart has not been whole. In my heart, I’ve been the rich young ruler. Those things that I hold most dearly. I’ve let those other things reign where only He should. He has said to my heart, let it go. You know so much about Me, have lived for Me, given up for Me, but I am not fully Lord. So these other than Me things that you most treasure, give them up. And I’ve said no. Just like the rich young ruler whom I’ve chastised so many times. In the depths of my heart, I have not believed that He is real. Otherwise, I would let go. I would not walk away from Him. I would give it up because this is Christ, the real God, calling me. But I’d rather have my dead gods.

Just. Stop. God is real. Can you even begin to wrap your mind around that?  Of course He is, but do you really live that way in your heart? Where you worry and fear? Where you have stones of anger and rocks of bitterness? Where you try to control or impress? Where you still seek the approval and the favor of others? Where it matters to you how you measure up to the success and status of those around you? Where opinions dictate your decisions? Because if He really is real, in your heart, that all becomes dead. This one reality makes your heart whole and wholly set on Him. He is real. And this throne view of life changes how I live. If He says go, I go. Because He is God and He is real and I see life from His view not my own. Staying would be death and going is life. I cannot stay. If He says give. Serve. Sell. Sacrifice. Get into the mess of others. Love to the death of self. Comfort becomes uncomfortable. Safe becomes dangerous because He is not Lord of safe.  In my mind, surrender has been to a circumstance. I’ve lived in fear of what that circumstance might be. So I’ve said No. Enough. But surrender is to Him. This real God. That’s what I’ve missed. The rich young ruler walked away because He did not know that He is real. Surrender was about a thing not the real God. When surrender is to Him, our response is never, No. It’s never, I won’t go that far. I won’t give up that attitude. That sin. That desire. That approval. That comfort. Even the good things, the things I think I’m supposed to do as a good girl, if they have dethroned Him and become my comfort, my security, my focus, my pride, are dead gods reigning the throne of my heart. When those other than Him things matter more, He is not really real to me. But when He truly comes alive in my heart, all else dies. And my answer is Yes. Because He is real.

A Hidden Pile of Stones

It has been one of those weeks where nagging situations have become full blown assaults. You know, those situations; people and circumstances that have been a burden but have existed unresolved for so long that they simply become part of your normal. You’ve prayed for so long that you almost don’t expect anything to change. Then it happens. When it does, you’re completely caught off guard. Yes, one of those weeks.

This was supposed to be a calm productive week. I was simply delighted at how smoothly my Monday had gone, all according to plan. Then Tuesday came. I should have known that He was trying to prepare me for the day ahead. When I started my quiet time on Tuesday morning, God kept directing me to verses that I simply was not wanting to read at the moment. Those verses that your heart is just not ready to hear. But they are the only sanity you’ll be able to hold on to for the day ahead. Because the day ahead is not what you had planned. You were not ready for the hurt and anger and heartache that was coming. The situations that were about to explode were not on your to do list. Your heart was certainly not ready.

All throughout Tuesday morning of making breakfast, getting my kids ready and off to school, and coming home to start my day, I wondered why God had lead me to these two verses. They were not in my devotion. They were not what I was studying and reading. They came out of nowhere. And they would not leave me alone.

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you. I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. Ezekiel 36:26

All bitterness, anger and wrath, shouting and slander must be removed from you, along with all malice. And be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving one another, just as God also forgave you in Christ. Ephesians 4:31-32

Verses nagging my mind, I proceeded to my daughter’s bedroom to check off of my to-do list the dreaded deep cleaning of her bedroom pigsty. I don’t normally clean my kids’ rooms for them, but we were getting to the danger zone of having to bring out the caution tape and gas masks. It had to be done. After three hours of purging her closet, washing baseboards, discovering where she hides her clothes rather than putting them away, where she collects her papers rather than throwing them in the trash, where she hides her brothers’ Legos and keeps a collection of pine cones, I get to the last area to clean. Under her bed. She has a trundle so I knew from all the previous discoveries, that there would most likely be some incredible treasures buried under there. A pile of rocks. Yes, my ten year old daughter had a collection of rocks piled up in the corner under her bed.

Then the phone first call came. Then another. Then another. Three explosions in one day. One right after the other. I barely had time to breath from one call to the next. My head was spinning and I was not dealing well with anything. In my frustration, I texted my sister and she simply replied, ‘I know but you have to forgive.’ Excuse me- but I’m entitled to this anger! It’s funny, the day before I had run across a project I had to do a few years ago for one of my counseling classes, called 5 Facts on Forgiveness. I’ve worked through my fair share of forgiving in my life. I have a degree in Christian Counseling where I’ve had to do research and mock sessions on helping a client work through forgiveness. I’ve done extensive Bible study on forgiveness. I’ve got forgiveness down.

Then those verses came invading my mind. Again. Really? All bitterness? These people really are wrong! These situations really are hurting people I love. They have gone on long enough. They need their hearts of stone removed because no one with any other kind of heart could be so hurtful. There, that must be exactly what this whole nagging verse thing must be about. I can put these verses to rest and move on past this forgiveness thing.

It was not until the next day that my heart was ready to receive what God was trying to show me. I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a train from my sleepless night. Then my mom called to tell me that God had laid on her heart a verse from Ezekiel. Are you kidding me? And then it hit me. That Holy Spirit nudge that said, ‘Heather your heart is like the rock collection under the bed.’ My heart had a collection of stones piled up in the corner of my heart, ready to hurl. Stones of bitterness and anger. Stones that were justified because these people and situations have caused real pain. Stones that I would have gladly used to take a few people out the day before. Stones that needed to be removed. Honestly, I didn’t know my rock collection of unforgiveness existed. Not until the explosions exposed them. And so I begin today doing more deep cleaning. In my heart.

Thankful and Teachable

Recently, my oldest child and I had a conversation. My sweet Eli was 4 months old when we surrendered to the ministry. After 11 years in the ministry, he has never had a close friend in any church we’ve served. He has never had a best friend at all, besides his siblings. Our other two children have always had church friends, but there has simply never been another boy his age anywhere we’ve served. He is 11 and starting to struggle. You see, all of his school friends go to the two other “big churches” in town so their best friends are school/church friends. Consequently, he’s left out much of the time.

On this particular day, I had a light-bulb moment. He’s been irritable, cranky and agitated lately. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve been passing it off as simply pre-puberty. However, that day, I was more perceptive, realizing that there was more to my son’s out of character attitude than thought. We had a conversation proving my suspicions true. (I suppose I feel the need to defend myself here. It is unwise and unfair to prod our kids by placing ideas into their mind. My purpose was to get information from him, not place ideas into him. Although, don’t we do that as mom’s sometimes as a manipulative way to hang guilt over our husbands’ head when we are angry or hurting? But that’s another conversation for another day.)

He’s lonely. Oh, how well I know that feeling. It made all the difference for him to simply hear, “Son, I understand.” And at that moment, I found gratitude for all my experiences of loneliness. Carefully choosing my words, I shared what I’ve learned about the loneliness of the ministry. I wanted to be sure not to communicate to him that he should be stronger or more understanding or any other “spiritual salve” that would not mend his wounded heart. In fact, that would only cause resentment, driving him from Christ not to Christ. No, I would not give him heartless words. My son needed the compassion of Christ from the mouth of his mom. So I proceeded. I would like to say that I used a more appropriate word, but in keeping with my record of being real, I will go ahead with what I really said. “Son, I know that there are times when the ministry just sucks.” I know, I know. Probably not the best word to say to my son, but it’s honest. Keep in mind, we spent eight years in student ministry. Sometimes, ya’ just gotta call it like it is. Then I shared with him what I’ve learned. (In a more tactful way, of course!)

There have been days, months, years that I’ve been so incredibly lonely. So lonely that I’ve cried myself to sleep. I’ve secretly hated the ministry. I’ve really just wanted to tell my husband to take me back to our normal life, before ministry. But I have come to know Christ as sufficient. On the days when He’s literally all I’ve had, when my husband’s been gone ministering and church situations were painful and the kids have been crazy and the money was past gone and there’s no one to call and all I could do was lay in my kitchen floor listening to Jeremy Camp sing “Enough,” I’ve learned that He is. He is sufficiently enough. Graciously enough. Compassionately enough. And I’m to a place where I can honestly say I’m grateful for the lonely because I know Christ in a way I never would have otherwise. To know Him as sufficient. As present. As faithful. As enough. To move from knowledge to experience. That’s everything.

My son, what I’ve learned is that ministry is hard. Yet, even when it’s hard be thankful. Be teachable. Allow God to use it to move your faith from knowledge to experience. I pray that I remember that truth the next time a season of lonely rolls around. And I wonder if my attitude is as cranky, irritable and agitated as my son’s when I’m struggling?

Home: Creating a Hospitable Haven

Admittedly, I am still learning the balance of having our home open to guests while also providing an escape for my family. Before we were in the ministry and during our years serving in student ministry, hospitality was one of my greatest joys. We had people in our home all the time. When my husband was called to pastor three years ago, that changed for some reason. To be honest, it was very unintentional. I didn’t realize it had happened, but the reality is hitting me that for the past few years our home has not been as open to guests. During our first year with Tim as pastor, I was going through an identity crisis trying to transition from being the student pastors’ wife to being the pastors’ wife, all in the same church. I was focused on separating myself from our students, learning how to change my role, and figuring out this new dynamic in our ministry with my husband also being my pastor. Being so focused on the new role, I failed to see that I still needed to have our home open. Even though we are in the same church and I already knew the congregation, I wish it had occurred to me to have a couple each month to our home to build relationships with them, to get to know them better, to love on them.

Needless to say, I’ve done some things really well and other things not so well at all. Tim and I have been very intentional about family time. Our kids know that on Friday nights, as cheap as it may be, we are going to eat pizza (frozen or homemade, unless I have a great coupon on ordered pizza!) and watch a movie (Redbox or Netflix rental). For birthdays, they know that mom will make all their favorites. On holidays, I go all out to make things special. No, not Pinterest crafty all out, but creating traditions and memories. My grandma taught me to use any opportunity to celebrate, to make an extraordinary day in the middle of our everyday life. I love that at each holiday our kids know what to expect because it creates excitement and anticipation. I love that I’ve established in my family such simple, but special memories.

Over these past few months, however, it’s occurred to me that in my attempt to be intentional about family time, I’ve missed our church family. I’m praying through how to undo that and start fresh. All 5 of us need a safe place, a place to escape, a place where we can just “be” and not feel watched. A few weeks ago, we went out to eat with a couple of families from church. That is rare for us for two reasons; one, I’m cheap so we just don’t eat out often, and two, we aren’t invited that often. When we returned home, our daughter said, “Mom, it was really fun hanging out with them. I didn’t feel like they looked at me as the pastors’ daughter.” This was huge. You see, she had had a meltdown a few weeks before at the Awana End of the Year Awards Ceremony because she had not finished her book. She had brought it up for a few weeks that she was concerned that she would not finish. I kept telling her it was not a big deal; her dad and I were focused on her heart, not how many sections she passed. I wanted her to know she didn’t have to put pressure on herself. In all of my psychology/counseling training I did the one thing we aren’t supposed to do: I dismissed her. On the day of the Awards ceremony, she came home from school and just lost it. I had never seen her that upset over something church related. I finally sat, listened, and let her unload. I had not realized the pressure she felt. I have been so thankful that we are in a church that does not verbally critique or criticize our kids. We’ve never had outlandish expectations held on them from our church. I’ve never had anyone complain about the preachers’ kids. We don’t say to our kids statements such as, “Your dad’s the pastor so you better behave.” We expect them to act appropriately and respectfully, but not because of whom is their dad. So I was unaware that they still feel pressure.

When she finally was able to get through to me, Abbi expressed that her church teachers and leaders still hold the expectation, whether intentional or not, that if anyone will finish their book, it will be our kids. If anyone will get the awards, it will be our kids. If other kids are struggling with understanding a passage or a lesson, our kids can help them. Because they have a Bible degree, like their dad? Not sure about that one, but I’ve never seen her this upset or adamant, so I believe her. And that’s when I realized how crucially important our home being a haven is to our family. They need an escape from the pressure. They need a place to mess up without feeling watched. They need a place to be crazy and, yes, even to argue with one another and not have to always be “on.” I am so thankful that I grew up without a stable family, because it’s made me determined during our 14 years of marriage and 10 years in the ministry to create a home that’s a haven. Not many things I’ve gotten right, but I can rejoice in God’s grace to give me this passion.

What I’m learning is balance. I don’t want our family to be so focused on us that we miss opportunities to build relationships outside of ourselves. Just as much as we need an escape, Abbi’s statement about how nice it was to go out to eat with another family made me aware of how closed we had become and how much we also need others. And they just might need us. We don’t have family here, but my daughter opened my eyes to the reality that just maybe we do have family. I’m not going to open our home every night of the week. For the sanity of us all, I am still going to be protective of our time together. I am still going to carry on our traditions and memory making. However, I’m also going to allow others, with wisdom, to be part of our lives, as well.

Is It Worth Really It?

Several weeks ago, I asked my husband if all of this was worth it. You know, the ministry. Is it really worth the frustration and battles? Perhaps I’m just a mere cynic. I don’t always see the good. I tend to miss the forest for the trees. It’s my struggle. There was a time in our ministry when my husband actually had to tell me that I had the attitude of Jonah. Ouch. He was right and I’m thankful he had the nerve to speak truth to my negative spirit.

I don’t expect things to be perfect. Ministry is people and people are sinful. Including myself. My question was simply from an overwhelmed perspective. Of course, I should have expected my Father to do His best to answer my question. Don’t you just love that? Ok, well sometimes not so much. I guess I was probably having myself a little pity party, no matter how valid or justified my question may have been. It’s been a long year.

Over the past couple of weeks, God has been whispering and revealing, all the while Satan has been attacking. Since I first verbalized this question to my husband, I’ve had some of the most hurtful things I’ve ever experienced directed to me personally from church members.

Let me just throw in a side note here. If you’ve not read the book Unglued by Lysa Terkeurst, I’d highly recommend you take the time. It saved me from reacting in ways that would have escalated the situations.  It has been the most beneficial book for me as a pastors’ wife in dealing with difficult people.

Back to the point. I have been wounded. I mean, a few weeks ago I ended the week feeling completely beat up. You know what? I didn’t ask the question, “Is it worth it?” God’s still small voice overcame Satan’s discouragement by bringing to mind my life before being in the ministry when I was a church member and had a pastors’ wife.  A little girl being raised by a poor single mom going to church with her grandparents whose church provided her a Christmas she would have otherwise not had. My heart was given hope. A lonely preteen whose youth ministers’ wife took the time to invest in her. I felt noticed and worth something. A new wife who knew nothing, whose pastor’s wife made herself vulnerable by teaching classes on parenting, cooking, budgeting, decorating, loving her husband, and studying her Bible. She equipped me to be a good, godly wife in ways that I would have spent years trying to learn on my own. These women and these churches made such a difference in the heart and life of this woman. And I know it is worth it all because it was worth it all to me.

As I consider what a difference the ministries of these churches and these women had on my life, I realize that while a place of ministry may be a struggle, I have the opportunity to be to a child or a woman or lost teen girl what those churches and ministers’ wives were to me.  I have been consumed with the battles and bruises but God keeps bringing to mind the verse, “Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are of good repute, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy, meditate on these things.” (Philippians 4:8). That’s what I’m choosing to do; not to get lost in the forest of struggles but rather see God’s big picture. To see the lives I have the opportunity to minister to, that I would not have if it were not for my place of ministry. Despite painful people, despite frustrations, despite wounds, I want to learn to turn my perspective to what is true, noble, pure, praiseworthy.

During the same week I mentioned that I felt completely knocked down, I read a prayer from a book of prayers that I’m reading this year. It speaks directly to this and to us. It is a prayer based on Philippians 4:6-7:

Dear Jesus, I’ve memorized this Scripture, taught it, preached it and prayed it for many struggling friends. Today, however, I’m desperate to lay hold of it for myself. I am anxious, so I need the grace to obey this command. I know You’re not asking me to pretend or pose, for knowing You is the end to that way of life. And I know You’re not asking me to be a stoic, for You are gentle and humble of heart. Jesus, it was You who turned the chaos of an unformed world into the beauty of creation. Please do the same with all the chaos swirling around me and in me. Replace my angst and confusion with order and beauty. For the things that grieve me, bring your tear-wiping hand. For the things that offend me, keep me from a critical and selfish spirit. For the things that alarm me, grant me the perspective of heaven and gospel sanity. Please, don’t let me get bitter. For the things over which I have no control, give me a fresh vision of the occupied throne of heaven. For the things I do have control over, grant me wisdom and strength to act accordingly. Please help me steward my anger, my sadness and my weariness to Your glory. I don’t want to waste this moment or these feelings. Jesus, I have no reason to doubt either Your mercy or Your might. You gave Your life for us upon the cross. You have risen to make all things new. You are unremittingly advocating and praying for us. No one loves us more the You do. I have seen you do astonishing things before. Do astonishing things again. I am weary and worn down. Set the peace of God as a sentinel in my heart and mind. Great King of glory and grace, guard and protect my heart from the lies of satan, the whisperings of gossip, and the cynicism of naysayers. I pray with hunger and hope, in Your most trustworthy Name. Amen (Everyday Prayers: 365 Days to a Gospel-Centered Faith, Scotty Smith).

It was very purposeful for my own learning that in the same week God began to remind me of Philippians 4:8, I read this prayer from Philippians 4:6-7. Interestingly, Philippians 4:8 comes off the heels of Philippians 4:6-7 which, of course, is no coincidence. I’ve never really thought before how much verses 6-7 hinge on my decision to live verse 8. Ladies, let’s think on the praiseworthy, the people that personally need us to reach them with the love of Christ that may not otherwise know Him, rather than be lost in our anxieties caused by the ministry.

On the Hard Days

Reading the posts from our Facebook group, it seems that many of us are going through very difficult times right now. As I think about what to write for this blog post, my heart is broken for us. The demands of ministry can be exhausting. We give up the comforts of choosing where we live, what church in which we raise our kids, and so many other “normals.” Interrupted suppers. Rescheduled plans. No family close by to help with the kids. I could go on endlessly. This is no pity party, just our reality.

It seems that the days I most desperately need my husband are the days that the demands of ministry are the greatest. There are days that I cope bravely, trusting Jesus to meet my every need. And there are days that I fall into despair that this reality will never end. Then I feel guilty for not being stronger, not trusting more, not serving better. Over these past few weeks I have been reminded, I am most sure by my good God, that even with me, the pastors’ wife who should have this firmly rooted in her heart, He has compassion. Somehow, that is enough. Knowing that He is not irritated by my struggle or condemning of my sorrows gives me strength because I can rest in the patience of His grace.

My mind goes to Mary, sister of Martha. Mary is the sister who chose the right thing. Graciously, however, God gives a very human side of Mary in John 11. The account of Mary’s response to the death of her brother gives me great comfort in the compassion of my Savior and His allowance of my humanity. When Jesus came, Lazarus was four days dead and Mary stayed away. Her sister ran to Him, but she was too hurt. Then He calls for her and she comes to Him. Oh how beautiful, “The Teacher calls for you, Mary.” When she finally approaches her Savior, she boldly asks “Where were you when I needed you most?” She just wants answers. She wants to know where He was. She wants to know why this happened. We have all felt this way at some point in our ministries. What I love is that she had the audacity to admit her feelings of abandonment. She had the faith for her brother to be healed; that’s why she was so hurt. If He would have just come, her brother would have never died. But He didn’t. And he did. She was heartbroken, both by her loss and by her confusion. He had an even greater glory in store, but in that moment she could not see. She could not see that this pain would produce great joy. She could not see that this tragedy would result in a faith that she would desperately need just a few days down the road, at His death. She didn’t want down the road, she didn’t want to learn something. She just wanted her brother to be healed. She just wanted to be released from this pain. So often I find myself just as Mary, asking the question, “Where were (are) You?” What a Savior, that even though He knew what He was doing, He stepped into her pain. “Jesus wept.” Literally, burst into tears. He didn’t condemningly say, “Good grief, just trust Me.” He didn’t rebuke her. He didn’t scold her for lack of faith. He understood. He felt. He wept.

As wives of ministers, we know all the right answers, but there are days that we are just tired, confused, frustrated, hurt, disappointed, lonely. On those days, when it is hard to find the joy of ministry, know that our greatest worship is bringing Him our heart, honestly and completely. He won’t lecture or laugh.  He won’t dismiss or demand. He will simply understand. He will even weep with us. And we will find rest.

I often forget that the love, grace, and compassion of God that we have been called to live our lives sharing with others is for my heart as well. I can flood His throne with my struggles, just like Hannah. I can pour out my heart before Him, just like David. We have the same hope that from these hard days, we too will have a greater glory because somehow, someway, someday, He will bring a resurrection to these difficulties. Until then, I will ask the human questions on the hard days and that may be the only act of trust I can muster, but He will graciously accept.

Clueless and Content

Let me begin by admitting that I am the least likely candidate for this role as pastor’s wife. Growing up in an unstable, single parent home, I am historically a very insecure person, an introvert, and I tend to doubt people. Don’t worry, I have a psychology degree, so I’m great at analyzing my crazy.

Clueless is my perfect one word description; clueless when I got married on how to be a wife, much less a Godly one, clueless about being a mom, grocery shopping, meal planning, budgeting. Honestly, everything. This has all been learned hands-on in my adult life. Since I was already accustomed to such “hands on” learning, I suppose God saw it fit to just throw me into this whole new role of being a ministers’ wife, as well. I married a plumber, not a preacher, for crying out loud!

My sweet man served as a deacon, taught Sunday school, ran Upward Basketball and was the lay leader in our home church’s children’s ministry. Additionally, I was on staff as one of the church secretaries. We were a young Christian couple whole heartedly serving God, but ministry was nowhere in our radar. Then I had to go start praying for my husband. Knowing that God was doing something in him, I began to go through Power of a Praying Wife. A year later, after quietly praying for Tim, he surrendered to the ministry. Good grief, I probably wouldn’t have prayed so hard if I had known how God was going to answer!

I remember the Sunday that Tim and I went forward to tell our church that we had surrendered to the ministry. I’ll never forget walking down to “Wherever He Leads I’ll Go” thinking, “What a wonderful hymn for us to walk forward to, God. You know we will go wherever You lead.” I’m sure the choir at our current church looks at my face out of curiosity when that hymn is played and I’m laughing at myself.

Our ministry journey has looked nothing like what I had in mind that day, yet again, proving myself clueless. We unexpectedly went from Tim serving as the Associate/Student Minister in our current church, to him being called as the Senior Pastor of the same church. Talk about being thrown in feet first. The only thing I wasn’t clueless about was knowing the battles we would have to fight because we already knew the people. I think maybe being clueless would have been a little easier!

Over these past two and a half years in this new role, I can already look back and see things that I wish I had done differently. Just like when I was a new wife and when I became a mom, there are things I wish I would have known, things I wish I would have been taught for this new role. I have absolutely no credentials that qualify me for this position, yet I’m learning to settle into my state of “cluelessness.” God is teaching me that although I’m the least likely candidate for this role, He knows what He is doing. I am entirely inadequate but my hope is in the reality that He is entirely adequate. I’m coming to know His strength being made perfect in my weakness in a way I’ve never before experienced. Even though I am truly clueless about this role, I am content in my weakness. I’m not talking about a “this is the way I am so deal with it” attitude, but about giving my imperfection grace as I learn and grow.

There are so many of you precious women that are far better at this than me and I beyond grateful for your wisdom. For those of you who feel like you walk you’re your church with a big flashing “clueless” sign, rest in His grace. He knew what He was doing when He chose you for this task in your specific place of ministry. We don’t have to be strong or perfect. We don’t have to carry the burden of “having it all together.” There is peace in weakness because this is where He radiates most evident in our lives.