Saturday, October 27, 2012

My Pastor is my best friend.....

Life in the parsonage is crazy.  I recently saw a funny little cartoon about what people THINK goes on in the parsonage as opposed to what actually does.  Of course, I can't find the cartoon, but it was a little something like this:  A beautifully dressed woman, delivering steamy hot pancakes, to a perfectly made up table with well mannered kids, with an hour to spare before needing to walk out the door.  The other side of the cartoon depicted reality:  A woman with hair still in a towel, with 5 minutes to spare until needing to be in a building across the street, throwing out food that she is pretty sure now has poop on it, two children crying, and one of them stripping through the house, bare butt and laughing.  

I am pretty sure when God made me a pastor's wife, he was at the peak of his sense of humor, because I am convinced He created me to prove any misconceptions wrong.  Anyway, I have been, as all wives are, created to be my husbands helper.  This is hard for me sometimes, because not only was I raised not being exposed to Jesus, but I was raised by a single mom.  She played both parts.  Slice it whatever way you would like, life growing up in an environment where the woman of our house made all of the decisions made me a no nonsense, take charge, make decisions kinda gal, which bucks against God's plan, and often leaves my husband and I at odds.  I am working on this.  I have come leaps and bounds and God's grace is amazing.  

With all this said, I marvel at my husband.  This being Pastor appreciation month, I would like to write a blog, honoring my pastor who also happens to be my husband, my best friend.  I sometimes feel that people are shocked to discover that my husband has limitations! They are stunned to find out that he has the same number of hours in his day that they do in theirs, or that he couldn't somehow fit more into his day than they do.

I love my job as the wife to the Minister. I'm responsible for that smile on his face when he walks confidently to the pulpit.  I'm responsible for that spring in his step when he heads into the church office.  I'm responsible for that dapper suit and tie he is proudly wearing.  I'm responsible for that good attitude that helps him to face disgruntled members or difficult counseling situations.  I have a big responsibility and I take it seriously, because you see, my minister-husband isn't complete without me.  He needs me.  He needs my hugs and kisses, and pats on the back, and cheers, and smiles, and "amens"!  Well, call me arrogant; but quite frankly, I feel like I'm important to the whole project.  You see, I go with him everywhere he goes, even when I don't leave the house!  I wish I always got this right...I don't. 

However, I try as hard as I can because I know, at any given moment, unlike any other profession, someone needs my husband.  When I says needs, I mean NEEDS.  Not that anyone else's husband is never needed, but my pastor husband is called to do many things, many people couldn't handle.  He is called to be emotionally, physically and/or mentally available at the drop of a hat.  He walks with people through the fight's of their lives and sometimes, tragedies.  He sees people at their saddest, maddest, and most passionate moments, and is called to walk with them through it.  He watches individuals that he loves make damaging/toxic choices.  He sometimes knows every dirty detail of the sin in people's lives, and gives hours of energy to trying to help them overcome the sin, just to end with watching them, devastatingly, walk into Satan's grip and be overcome.  He sits by, watching death take its' grip and enjoys visiting new life.  He remains silent when it is appropriate and uses words when it is the right time.  By the power of the Holy Spirit, he can recall scripture for situations that I wouldn't even want to hear about.  He mourns with mother's, widows and friends.  He listens to the seemingly hopeless circumstances of others, and offers support the way God calls him to.        

The reason I marvel:  He loves it!  He doesn't love watching others suffer, but he loves what he has been called to do.  He will run out of the house in the middle of the night to be with someone who is losing their loved one, he will spend hours, praying and thinking on a problem in someone else's life, he will worry and love and fight with you, not because he has to, but because he wants to.    

Knowing all this, I can send him out the door with a joyful, happy, loved feeling, where he can tackle the tests and wrestle the enemy to the ground. Or I can send him out the door with a heavy heart, full of hurt or anger, where he will quickly be overtaken by grief and anxiety, unable to jump the smallest hurdle. I am not the Senior Pastor (thank God, or we wouldn't have a church to worry about!) and, though my input is valuable to my husband ultimately, I am not responsible for the way money is spent, ministry is done or employees are hired.  My job is bigger than all of that!  When I do my job, he can do his.  

As the pastor's family, we know and accept his limitations. We're glad he's human. We even get to remind him of that every now and then, but we love him just like he is — human and all! We are his helpmate.  We serve him as he serves the church. This is a very important role. I often feel we need more education to do our job than he does to do his!  

We know exactly how hard he works, we know what he takes home with him, we know if his heart is heavy or frustrated or happy.    

I want him to know how proud I am of him.  I want him to know I watch him and feel exhausted.  I couldn't ever do what he does, or hear what hears, or know what he knows and am enamored by his ability to manage and love the church and still have energy to manage and love his family.  I wish I could love like he does.  He has care and concern and tough love and advice for everyone, and then comes home with a special store for us.  

So, as this Pastor Appreciation Month rolls to an end, I want my pastor to know how much he means to me.  I want him to know how much this life wouldn't make sense without him, and how blessed I am to have found him, and how wonderfully fortunate I am to have him father our daughter and sons, and how absolutely humbled I am to be able to simply call him.....mine.   


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