Cries

I realize I'm not very good at keeping up here. Honestly, it's been a rough year and I don't have much energy left over after I do what I need to do these days. Have you ever seen a cat swim? There's a reason cats don't like water. When they swim, they look half drowned, barely visible above the water, fighting to make it to shore. That's what I feel like...

The good side of things is that I'm doing my best to learn how to help other people right now. Many of my friends are in a similar boat. It's not hard to miss that struggling, drowning vibe when you're paying attention. This morning I had another really hard pill to swallow, but it brought an epiphany. I'm fairly discerning. I sense things easily and usually know when something is going on whether I'm "in the know" or not. However, much of the time, I keep my mouth shut believing that if the person hasn't told me what they're going through, they don't want me to know. I pray quietly and look for an opportunity to probe further. I'm beginning to realize maybe they want me to ask. Granted, there's a way, place and time, but nothing says love like having someone close to you send a quick message asking, "Are you okay? I sense something's up and just wanted you to know I care." In future days, I'm going to be more bold. I'm going to ask the questions.

Sadly, most pastors/leaders invest in people because they like them (or sometimes not) and need them. I long to invest in people because I love them, whether they help me out or not. When you pour into people because you love them, I believe you're going to care more about what they're struggling with whether it impacts your personal ministry/world or not. It stands to reason unconditional love like that will eventually impact your personal world in huge ways. Caring for people most when it's convenient for you or when that person can affect your own personal ministry/agenda will eventually take it's toll.

Give Me a Heart for People

Today I am a single mother with a single child. No, we had no tragedy--actually, quite the opposite. Brendon is now big enough to enjoy his first "rite of passage" and join his dad on an intensely exciting business trip to exotic Indianapolis. It's amazing how even the Honda Accord they rented is the coolest car EVER!...but I digress...

Given my suddenly light position in life for these two days, I decided my youngest and I would play after I picked him up from school. We motored to Ikea to play in the children's section and finish up with ice cream cones. While he was navigating one of the many tunnels in the room display section (if you've never been to Ikea, this sentence probably makes no sense and by the way, I feel truly sorry for your sad station in life), he ran across a new friend, Braden. Braden came with his grandpa, who was a brilliantly charming Scottish gentleman, brouge and all. I love Scottish accents. We had a wonderful conversation for several minutes while the boys played with each other. It certainly didn't hurt how much I enjoyed the conversation when he commented on how beautiful (in a normal, non-child predator way) my son is and that he obviously "has a very pleasant disposition." Mothers love to hear those things. After we bade "goodbye" to these new-found friends and slowly enjoyed our ice cream, we headed home to get ready for T-ball practice.

My sons are amazingly good car riders. From day one, they've both loved riding in the car so much and are so quiet I sometimes forget they're even with me. This bit of trivia is pertinent to this story--really, it is. Since he is...well...an amazingly good car rider, I found myself reflecting on the conversation I had at Ikea. The Scottish gentleman was quite obviously "un-churched." At one point during our conversation he used some rather colorful language (colorful enough to still be banned from prime time TV, in case you were wondering), thrown out in a quite tasteful way. That's what caught me. I didn't instantly bristle in hidden and controlled condemnation. Five or ten years ago, I probably would have thought, "How sad that such a lovely conversation had to be ruined by a bad choice of language, even though he was careful to be quiet enough that the boys didn't overhear." Today I thought, "How sad this gentleman and his family don't live in Natomas so I could get to know them better. They seem just like the kind of people God's been throwing in my life lately." The shift is subtle, but clear to me. While I still don't condone or participate in "questionable" activities, I'm falling more in love with people who do. I'm seeing people who are far from God, feeling the tragedy of that and begging to help be the bridge to bring them to a point where they make an informed decision about whether they want to believe in Jesus or not. Besides, it just makes me laugh when I hear a friend who won't darken the door of a church tell someone else, "If you're going to go to church, pick my friends' church. They put on one hell of an Easter egg hunt!"

Ministry Challenges

I was given a very interesting task this past Sunday. As we were chatting at an open house, the pastor of a large church overseas asked me what the most challenging aspects of being a pastor's wife are. After I threw out a couple of my own personal challenges, he said one of the ministry schools he has contact with is trying to form a few classes to help the wives of men studying for the ministry. Now THAT'S a capital idea! I wish they'd organize a few week long intensives for pastors' wives over here :). In order to give him more varied feedback (and probably more accurate, since I tend to be a little off the path of what is "normal"...no comments, please), I sent out a quick message to several pastors' wives I know asking about their challenges. The responses have been wonderful and I'm grateful to be able to read them. Not only are these women sharing from their hearts, I'm noticing many of the more seasoned pastors' wives are reaching out to shepherd some of the shared hurts and challenges. THIS is the church, and I love it!

Three key struggles have repeatedly made their way to the forefront. They are, in no particular order:

1. Expectations of both the pastor's wife and her family/children (both real and imagined)

2. People leaving the church

3. Criticism of their husband

Do these resonate with you? What do YOU feel are the biggest challenges of being a pastor's wife?

Still Here

Between rocking a fussy baby, entertaining a 2 yr old, cooking for 6 to 8 people and cleaning up for said people in between, I've neglected posting lately and felt I should let you know I'm alive. Just for the record, we didn't adopt a bunch of kids all of the sudden :). I've spent the last couple of weeks in Nebraska helping my sister. So, here's the mother of all stories about ministry challenges...

Three weeks ago yesterday my newest niece was born. She's perfectly formed-everything where it should be and a head FULL of blond hair to boot (blond newborns don't happen in my family). Blondie is baby #4 to move into the Gospel Wesleyan Chapel's parsonage (which is a modest size house to start with), so I knew my sister would need some extra help adjusting to life with four kids as a solo pastor's wife in a small town. The kicker came when baby was one day old. My sister hadn't even been released from the hospital yet when my brother-in-law broke his ankle--the RIGHT ankle! The new daddy can't drive, new baby can't seem to sleep at night and new mommy is trying to survive. Fortunately, my parents are parked next door (they have a house sized RV) and I flew out when baby was a week old. Between my brother-in-law and sister pastoring two churches 45 miles apart, giving music lessons and accompanying a high school musical next weekend-all with a broken ankle and newborn-it's been a zoo around here.

Today the weather is mimicking life. It's downright violent out there. As I sit here listening to the rumbling thunder and pounding rain, I'm reminded of the story in Mark 4. Jesus and His disciples were crossing the lake in a horrid storm. Jesus was sound asleep in the boat when His disciples woke him asking, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?" Jesus seemed amazed at their fear and complete lack of faith.

Lately, I've fought a storm in my own heart. As in most of the rest of the country these days, life is uncertain in our neck of the woods. I feel the sense that God may soon ask more of our family than I'm comfortable with. I believe He's on the move...HE'S on the move and I'm in a holding pattern waiting for His timing to move with Him. I'm not sure what that will look like, which can be unnerving at best. I think I needed to see the physical storm today and read Mark 4 to better understand the spiritual storm. I don't want to hear the words the disciples had to hear. "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" Let me rest along side the God of the storm.

Sorrow

Probably one of the hardest things pastor's wives face is watching those in our churches face loss. I would guess if you've spent any time in ministry, you've experienced the heart rending feeling of standing in a hospital room/funeral home/family home/etc. seeing someone you love and shepherd in a place of total vulnerability. As I write, memories flood my mind...sitting with a bereaved couple looking at baby names that won't be used, crying with another couple as we watch their 2 lb twins struggle for life, trying to help a friend make sense of the anger he experiences over losing his mom to cancer, rushing to the emergency room to feed and comfort children so their mom can make sure their dad is getting the care he needs.

A good friend of mine has had a month of dealing with hell (quite literally). He's a pk who works in the wide open mission field known as the work force. Recently, one of his co-workers lost a 9 month old granddaughter to cancer. His words touched me so deeply, I asked if I could share them with you. He agreed. I'll warn you ahead of time...it's long, but well worth the time to read.

I'm not sure why February has been this way, but it has. What the month has lacked in dreary weather it has made up for in sadness. First it was the lost of a coworker and then, this week, the 9 month old granddaughter of a fellow co-worker, past away after a sudden discovery of cancer, an attempted surgery and many attempts to keep her, Alli, alive. Babies die every day. This fact doesn't make it any easier to deal with but when we have the advantage of space and distance and we can shield ourselves from the pain.

On Thursday night Konnie and I went to visit the family at 'the viewing'. Upon entering the building we immediately saw a video playing, showing slides of little Alli that had been taken in her short 9 months of life. There were flowers, cookies and music playing. It was hard not to tear up even though I had never met little Alli in person. I could feel that space and distance closing in. We then started reading some poems that family members, including the father, had written for Alli. They were all very moving and brought even more tears to our eyes.

Once my friend, Alli's grandpa, came in we hugged and visited with them for a little while. Then we were taken into the room where the body was; where the baby was. This is when the distanced closed and the space around us seemed so close and tight that breathing became difficult. I noticed the photos, the memorabilia and more flowers that were lovingly placed in the small room. There was a bassinet with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals. The bassinet was empty in regards to a body though. At first I was somewhat thankful because I really have a hard time with the death of children. That fact doesn't make me special, it simply makes me human. But as I turned to the right, there was a couch with some people on there. And there they were. The mom was holding what almost looked to be a doll, but it wasn't a doll... it was Alli. She was stroking the babies hair and smiling at her. She then realized people were coming in and said, 'time to lay you down sweetie... I love you so much'. She smiled, she wept... she loved. She loved her little girl.

Writing about this doesn't make any of it easier. It wasn't my child; I had never even met her. But the overwhelming sadness I felt at that moment was undeniable. And it wasn't just me. My sweet wife began crying and I know she was thinking back to when our little Kaden was born and in intensive care for the first week of his life. How close we came to being where this family was.... the space we had and the distance we shared closed.

I spoke to my friend, again, of why I had to believe what i believe about God. I can't believe that this life has no meaning and that there is nothing beyond this life that isn't wonderful. Because if there is no reason that a 9 month old little girl gets cancer and dies, then I'm not sure I can be on board with that sort of cold, brutal universe. When my cousin's 2 year old died in a drowning accident I wrote a blog about Jesus saying 'Let the little children come to me'. It's with a heavy heart that I really need to hear Jesus say 'Let Geoffrey come to me'. I think we all need to hear him say that; to hear our name come from his mouth. I know I hope the family of Alli can hear Jesus calling them to Him. He's ready to hold them. When there is distance and space between you and God you can hide from emotion; you can hide from pain. But you also miss the comfort and love that only He can offer. We need to close the space and distance sometimes because we need to feel. We need to feel hope. We need to feel love. Because we surely feel the pain don't we?

There's nothing more powerful than when these little angels are born. There's nothing more painful than when these little angels die. "Jesus, you mind if we climb on your lap for just a bit and be held?" 'Come to me......'

Thoughts? Anyone, anyone...

Here we go!

As you may well know, being a pastor's wife has it's own special challenges. You face the struggle of balancing your own active personal ministry as well as what comes with trying to support your husband in a very difficult (albeit rewarding) ministry position of his own. I think we've all felt the struggle of the dance to be a vibrant, supportive catalyst for his ministry, being obedient to our own calling and trying to raise children who follow passionately after God--the whole time living in somewhat of a glass house. It's easy to feel a little “Barbie dollish” (is that a word?) and glossed over. In spite of all that, this world needs pastor's wives who are real and vulnerable.

A few years ago now I had an instant flash of “what if.” What if there was something out there for the special stresses pastor’s wives face? What if there was some way to connect women who feel so very alone and disconnected. What if pastor's wives could get advice and encouragement from women who are where they are, facing what they face? Those very thoughts gave birth to the idea of having "ordinary" pastor's wives contribute to a practical book. Unfortunately, after untold hours spent writing, editing, pitching the idea, ect. it still sits in a lovely and very large folder in my hard drive. With the marvels of modern technology, however, there's no reason the issues, comments and insight myself and four other pastor's wives tossed around can't be out where some women will possibly feel encouraged and strengthened. In fact, the exciting thing about a blog is that there is wonderful opportunity for much more interaction and comments from women who have been in the ministry trenches many more years than the five of us. 

With that in mind, I believe the first (or I guess it would be second) post will be a fun one to contribute to...