Yes, and I'm one of those work-behind-the-scenes individuals. Don't give me glory---give me nitty-gritty stuff!
Our first district had three churches, and one of them was having a work bee. My first—as a pastor's wife. I showed up ready and willing to tackle anything from cleaning toilets to hanging shingles. Finding no ladies out side, I searched indoors and found them all scrubbing the kitchen. I went to the floor-washing crew and joined in, but they quickly caught me by the arm and escorted me to a chair.
"Our minister's wife isn't going to do any dirty work," they informed me. "You just sit here and talk to us." I was so surprised it took a moment to find my voice.
"Oh, no," I protested, "I want to help!"
They insisted I sit down. I protested again. They insisted some more. I suggested I could go outside and work. Finally they let me help with the stove.
And that's the type of thing I've been doing ever since. If something needed to be done, I'd do it. My motto: Whatever my hands find to do—do it.
As a young person I'd go to the pastor's house to help with literature stuffing, mailing, bulletin folding, and like projects—just because it was fun! I thought pastors' wives got to do that kind of thing all the time and therefore it would be great being married to a pastor.
Then I did become a pastor's wife. And 20 years later I still think it's great!
During Jay's first eight years in the ministry none of our churches had secretaries. So I helped with the bulletin, news letters, and correspondence. I became involved with cooking schools, evangelism, home visitation, and answering the telephone. I even held prayer meeting in one church while Jay was out of town. Some of those dear people drove 30 miles to be present. I was 24 years old and so nervous I raced through the whole subject in 10 minutes. Then, seeing we had a "lot" of time left, I asked if they wanted to go through it again slower!
When Jay had churches with secretaries, I worked in the Sabbath school divisions along with cooking schools and evangelism plus all the other things pas tors' wives do. Generally I haven't taken a position someone else could fill unless I would be helping train others for the job. After all, it was their church and most likely they would still be there after I had moved on. It's been difficult, though, to let go of a job once others were able and willing to do it.
After our children came along, I made sure the positions I accepted didn't dis tract me from caring for them especially during church services. So my Sabbath duties involved helping with the children's departments, added to what ever I could continue doing the rest of the week including answering the phone to tell people what time sundown was. Other roles have included being a sounding board for my husband and watching for articles or stories he might use. Through it all I've felt it important to maintain a personal devotional life and keep from complaining. All things considered, I think being a pastor's wife is a great life! To be honest, though, I must admit there was one time I didn't want to be the pastor's wife. I'm thinking of the episode when I was standing quietly in the church foyer looking at a book from the literature rack. Suddenly a man I'd never seen grabbed my arm, shook me, and bellowed, "Are you the preacher's wife?" I turned and saw a huge man glaring at me while squashing my arm. For the first time in my life as a minister's wife I desperately wanted to say, "No, she is," and be able to point to someone else—anyone else.
By now all eyes in the foyer were on us, and I was frantically looking for the intern's wife! Not seeing her, I finally acknowledged, "Yes, I am," and jerked my arm free from his grasp.
The silence in the foyer was broken only by the bellowed question, "Well, why do you have this book in here?" The man thrust a book from the literature rack into my face. I said something about not being the one who orders the books but that I'd be happy to introduce him to the person who did. He wasn't interested, and stalked into the sanctuary. I retreated to the missionary room to calm my nerves.
Both men and women who had witnessed the drama sympathized with me and said such things as "I can't believe you admitted to being the preacher's wife!"
Yes, there are some negative aspects to living in the parsonage. But there are negatives with everything in life. And when they come, ask yourself, "In 100 years, will this really matter?" or tell yourself, "This too will pass." And think of this: In what other profession do we get extra attention when we are sick, and extra care when we are pregnant? Or extra advice when our children are small? Or extra tasters when we try a new recipe at a church dinner? Or extra sympathy when we are sad or discouraged?
Don't forget the extra prayers offered on our behalf. And most of the time, from most of the people, we get extra love!
