I wonder if, in all our talk of discipleship and mentoring and "pouring into", we've created for ourselves a culture of entitlement.
We planted our church over six years ago. There is a church where there used to not be one, yes, but we're still working really hard and sometimes it feels like we're spinning our wheels. When is it going to get easier? When is God going to do something big and miraculous instead of the small and incremental?
God asks for our faithfulness, but we don't get to choose the shape our faithfulness takes.
Grace primarily means that we see one another as new creations in Christ, and we recognize the grace we received at salvation is continuing its work as a change agent in our lives.
We know we are not Jesus, but we're tempted to believe and act from the idea that we're able to be all-knowing, all-present, all-powerful, self-sufficient, without limits, self-existent, and in control of all things. Especially in how we minister to others.
I invite her to our women's day retreat. She says no. She describes past experiences of women's events characterized by shallow conversation, girly crafts, and topics never veering far from marriage and motherhood.
Limits are gifts that help us remember that our greatest gift is a God who is limitless.
The choice of our wedding date may have been our first mistake in marriage, but there have been many more I've made that have been of much greater consequence than how we spend our anniversaries.
We all, at some point, are overwhelmed with burdens that are too heavy for us each to carry alone. Sometimes God acts in our lives without using others to meet our needs, but His normal mode of operation is to use wise believers in the Body of Christ—His church— to help us understand, grow, and grieve.
After living a lot of my life passively, I've discovered that pushing through the awkward is better than retreating almost all of the time. Because it's in pushing through the awkward that life gets a little bit crazy and a lot more complicated but also where God gets to come through.
What is the one thing you would say to encourage the pastor’s wife?
My pastor husband has learned the art of running full-out in ministry while also running full-out in marriage and family. Because of this--because he has been as committed to me as he has to ministry--he hasn’t lost my heart. In fact, he has it more than ever. This is why
How can church planters help their wives navigate the church planting process well?
He longs to transform their spiritual rubble into complete life restoration because this is His way, the way of Jesus. If they would just let Him.
All church planting wives start as generalists. We are children’s ministry coordinators, counselors, graphic designers, web managers, worship leaders, hostesses, and the primary sounding board for the church planter. Multiply this work times years of church planting, and it can make for one exhausted woman. I know, because I was one.
The pastor's wife is just like every other woman in the church when it comes to friendship: she gets a choice who she lets in.
I’d been a pastor’s wife for less than a year when I began preparing my exit strategy . . .
When I was Mama to littles, I mothered hard but often only with reward in mind: the end of the day, the occasional morning to sleep in, the dazed stroll around Target. My hope, I'm saying to you, was in false hopes, temporary hopes, lifeless hopes, hopes that were never guaranteed to give me anything.
Community isn’t something that comes to us; it’s something that we go toward.
We must actively pursue deep relationships with others within our churches in which we bravely share how the gospel lays claim to our lives.
What are some important things for pastors’ wives to remember about congregations?
What are some important things for churches to remember about pastors’ wives?
There is no training ground for ministry life for the pastor's wife, there is just the doing it. But if I could go back in time and talk to my first-year-in-the-ministry self, this is what I would say.
For many of my formative years, the overarching and consistent message I received at church was, “Be good." I attempted with everything in me to be good, but my efforts only reinforced what I knew deep inside: I wasn’t good enough and could never be.