Through a land not sown: interview with Kari Paulsen

Editor’s note: Kari Paulsen is the wife of Jan Paulsen, president of the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists and also serves as sponsor of Shepherdess International

Sharon Cress: Kari, you and your husband have had such a varied ministry—both in terms of the roles you have been called to fill and the areas you have served. Looking back, is this the journey in life you had imagined?

Kari Paulsen: Well, it has had some unexpected twists and turns. It’s a path we could not have predicted fifty years ago when we were starting out. You know, I sometimes think of the words in Jeremiah 2:2, “I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me and followed me through the desert, through a land not sown.” This is how it has often felt; that we were headed through uncharted territory, on an adventure designed by God.

SC: Tell us about growing up in Norway.

KP: Jan, my husband, and I were both born in Norway. My brothers and two sisters and I grew up in a farming community where everybody knew everybody. Norway is a beautiful country with mountains, lakes, and fjords with long, dark winters and short summers with a midnight sun. World War Two took place during my childhood.

SC: Growing up during World War Two must have been difficult.

KP: It’s a long, long story, and it’s about how I became a Christian. When I became very ill, Mother took me to a heart specialist, and after an extensive examination he told my mother I was born with a heart defect. He said that I probably wouldn’t live through puberty.

They didn’t tell me, but they told the neighbors, and they told their children. When we were playing, my friends would say, “Oh well, never mind, you’re going to die.” “Well, doesn’t everyone die?” I asked. “Yes,” they said, “but you could die tomorrow.” I felt scared.

My parents were like most Norwegians. They went to church only for christenings, confirmations, weddings, and funerals. All I knew about death was that you were buried in the ground under cold marble stones, and I didn’t want to die.

The doctors told my parents that with surgery I had a fifty-fifty chance of survival, but they decided to risk the surgery. The surgery was to be the first heart surgery in Norway, and so the operating theater was arranged to allow other medical people to watch and learn. The surgery was successful, but an infection set in. At that time penicillin was a very new medication and not generally available.

There were a couple of American soldiers who were patients in the hospital, and they heard about my story. I was told that they contacted America, and penicillin was made available for me. And these soldiers also arranged for a beautiful big box of all kinds of foods like nuts, oranges, dates, figs, and bananas. Then they gave me a pink dress and a pair of beautiful brown patent leather shoes. Because of the war and the shortage of things, these were very special gifts to me. I wanted to thank these kind soldiers, but by the time I was well enough, they were gone.

After the surgery I thought I was still going to die because I felt like a mountain was pressing on my chest, and it was so hard to breathe. I told God that if He would let me live, I would become a Christian. But I realized that I had no idea how to become a Christian— should I pray at night or say a grace before my meals? Or should I do both? I didn’t know what to do and I was scared—thought lightning would strike me.

When I was thirteen, preparation for confirmation began. You go to church every week, study and memorize the catechism, and learn hymns. Because I had promised to become a Christian, I also started reading the Bible I was given. Some things troubled me. I thought, This is strange. Why do we keep Sunday? So I said to the minister, “Why does it say in the Bible to keep the seventh day?” He replied, “We do that because Jesus was raised on the first day.”

I asked other questions, and the minister said, “Well, Kari, you are just a child, and we have ministers who study Latin and Greek and Hebrew and they don’t worry about it. So don’t you worry about it.” I was becoming more and more confused because this was my chance to become a Christian, and it just didn’t sound right to me.

The Sunday before confirmation, one receives one’s first Communion. I thought, If I take Communion and I haven’t become a Christian, something bad will happen to me. So I went to the minister and told him I could not take Communion. “What’s that all about?” he asked. I said, “I’m not a Christian.” “Of course you are a Christian,” he responded. “No,” I said, “I’m not a Christian, and I can’t take part in that Communion.” “Well,” he said, “if you’re not going to take Communion, you can’t be confirmed.” I felt safer but also sad. I would miss out on all the nice presents on confirmation Sunday.

During our last time together the minister said, “I’ve discussed this with the church board and we have decided that you may be confirmed without taking Communion. But remember, when you sit there and all of them go up to take Communion, you will be there by yourself and the whole congregation will look at you.”

SC: That’s a lot of pressure. So what happened after that?

KP: The following summer I was fifteen years old and very fond of dancing. I wanted to go on an outdoor summer dancing party some distance from where I lived, so I arranged to stay with one of my mother’s aunts. Another was an Adventist, but we had very little contact with her. The next day, however, I decided that I wanted to visit the Adventist aunt, who lived only a forty-five-minute walk away.

SC: You were quite independent!

KP: Yes, maybe so. As I got closer to her home, I noticed a group of people in a garden playing guitars and singing. Unbeknown to me, this was a small Adventist church community. A man, whom I later learned was the church school teacher, and his wife welcomed me and said that the young people were all going over to their place for a couple of hours to play games, and I was welcome to come. He asked me what my interests were, and I told him I liked to read. He said, “I have a book I’d like to give you and a couple of books I can lend you.” Books were still scarce then, and how I loved books. He gave me Steps to Christ written by Ellen G. White.

SC: Did you find out how to become a Christian in that book?

KP: Yes, I went home and read Steps to Christ. But I thought this was too good to be true—it can’t be that easy. Then I read the other books.

SC: What happened?

KP: Every time I went back, they did Bible studies with me and then enrolled me in the Voice of Prophecy lessons. By Christmastime I believed many things and knew that I should not eat pork. When I refused it on Christmas Eve, my father became furious and ordered me to leave the house. So, I went by train to my aunt’s house again. She had moved closer to us by then. I stayed there so I could go to secondary school because I had one more year.

SC: So, you finished secondary school living with this aunt?

KP: Yes. Her husband worked on the Norwegian railroad as an engineer. He would leave and be gone all week and be home by the weekend. Away from home he had started to attend some meetings. Believe it or not, they were Adventist meetings. Independent of each other, we started to keep Sabbath on the very same day. Three weeks later, my aunt joined us, and all three of us were baptized on the same day.

SC: So, did your other aunt who was already an Adventist come and see all of this?

KP: She was thrilled and so excited. She had prayed for us all of these years.

SC: Isn’t that something! So what was that date and how old were you?

KP: August nineteen fifty-one. I was seventeen. The next year I went to the Adventist Junior College in Denmark.

SC: It was at the Adventist Junior College in Denmark that you met Jan [Paulsen]?

KP: Yes. We both studied theology.

SC: Wonderful! Were there many women studying theology?

KP: No, just one other woman. I arrived at the college two weeks late, and the counting in Danish was very different. In the Old Testament Prophets class I could hardly understand a word of what Professor Olsen¹ said. It was all about who reigned when. So Jan saw my perplexity and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll explain it to you later.” That was it.

SC: It must have been very difficult for you—a slightly different language and lacking a basic Christian biblical background from childhood.

KP: Fortunately I was a good student, but I had to study a lot. I kept my grades high and thoroughly enjoyed it. Jan and I sometimes went for long walks. We would discuss everything, from topics raised in our classes to present issues.

SC: From the moment you met, was it love at first sight?

KP: No, we were actually friends. We somehow seemed to enjoy the same things. To this day we still enjoy discussing topics and issues.

SC: What did your parents think when you told them you were going to marry an Adventist who would become a minister?

KP: They were not pleased. After junior college, Jan worked as a ministerial intern in southwestern Norway, and I worked as a church-school teacher and Bible instructor in northeastern Norway. The following summer we got married and sold books for five weeks so that Jan could come to America. Then it took us nine months to collect enough for me to come.

SC: Did your parents come to accept your faith and your marriage?

KP: They did. It took time, but they came to love and appreciate Jan ever so much.

SC: What about Jan’s parents?

KP: They loved me. Jan grew up in a lovely, happy Christian home, and they couldn’t have been more welcoming.

SC: Did you continue with your theology education after you married?

KP: We went to Andrews University [then Emmanuel Missionary College]. After some years of study in America, intermingled with pastoral work in Norway, we were called to Bekwai, Ghana, where we stayed for two years.

SC: What about your children—where were they born?

KP: Laila, our daughter, was born in Norway. Our second child, Jan Rune, was born in Norway, although we lived in Ghana at that time, and our third child, Rein Andre, was born while Jan worked on his doctoral degree in theology at Tübingen University in Germany.

SC: After Ghana—what then?

KP: We moved to our college in Nigeria, where Jan was registrar and head of the Religion Department and later became president. Then we spent two years at Newbold College in England, where Jan was head of the Religion Department and president. After that we went to Germany for Jan to finish his doctorate degree.

SC: Now, you’ve experienced being the spouse of a student, a pastor, a missionary, an educator, and an administrator. Do you think some of these roles have been easier than others? Do you feel each one has had its own benefits and challenges?

KP: I think it was kind of a natural development. We just went one step at a time. When we left Newbold, the illness I had contracted in Africa had become chronic, and I was quite ill. I couldn’t do much, so I felt a bit isolated, but that had its silver lining. I got the idea of phoning people. I thought there must be people out there who are lonely, have lost a loved one, or are discouraged for some reason or other, and that’s a ministry that I’ve kept up. Wherever I know of somebody who needs some support, maybe a word of encouragement, I will phone them.

SC: So despite all the challenges, you found a way to minister to others.

KP: And it has been such a blessing to me as well. It’s something that I feel is so important in our church.

SC: Sometimes it’s not what you say, it’s just listening.

KP: Yes, we all need somebody who listens to us at some time or other.

SC: Do you think people expected different things from you in these different roles—wife of a pastor, educator, administrator?

KP: You know, I think it is very important as a minister’s wife that you define your own boundaries. There are some areas where you can gradually train yourself, but we all have our talents. And look at nature—a dandelion will never be a rose. You’ve got to try to see what the Lord wants you to do, what talents you have, but then you shouldn’t feel guilty with something you just cannot do. For instance, I could never, ever sing. And so I think that if you learn that early on, you don’t constantly go around with a guilty conscience.

SC: I hear you saying, have faith that God gave you the gifts He wanted you to have, value those, and don’t look to try to copy someone else’s.

KP: Yes, and if you have a bit of aptitude in something, then work at it.

SC: But no matter how much training you or I could receive, neither of us will ever sing a solo! What counsel would you share with pastors’ wives who serve long and hard and sometimes feel unappreciated?

KP: I do feel very much for pastors’ wives like that. Maybe they have served with their husband for a long time. Maybe their husband died or even divorced them. I think that it’s important to remember that they really have a very high credit rating with God that no one can take away from them. Secondly, I think it’s important for the rest of us to remember them and include them because they really deserve all the payback they can get.

SC: I think all of us, as pastors’ wives, struggle to maintain a relationship with Jesus Christ. Sometimes there’s a mix-up between the body of Christ and Christ Himself. While we serve the body of Christ, that doesn’t necessarily mean a relationship. How do you maintain that? Do you have a secret to share?

KP: Maybe I’ve been fortunate in that way. I have experienced quite a lot of illness and this close proximity to death does something to you and your relationship with the Lord. Somehow you rely more on Him. It’s important to stay close to Him, to pray, to read. It’s kind of a constant reminder that this life might not last that long. I’m fortunate that I’m still here.

SC: You have dealt with the adversity that you’ve experienced and said that draws you closer to Jesus. There are some pastors’ spouses who say, “Why me? I serve the Lord. My husband serves the church. Look at all that we’ve given to this church. Why would God let this happen to me?”

KP: I have had a quote at the back of my Bible for many years written by Ellen White. “Nothing tends more to promote health of body and soul than does a spirit of gratitude and praise. It is a positive duty to resist melancholy, discontented thoughts and feelings—as much a duty as it is to pray. If we are heaven-bound, how can we go as a band of mourners, groaning and complaining all along the way to our Father’s house?... It is a law of nature that our thoughts and feelings are encouraged and strengthened as we give them utterance.”²

SC: Amen. What do you think is Jan’s secret for helping you stay positive about being a pastor’s wife?

KP: What I have appreciated very much is that Jan has always valued what I have done. He’s always given me credit. He’s never pushed me to do things that I’ve felt uncomfortable with. And when he comes home, it’s our time. He has this wonderful “rule of life” principle. He prefers to leave the things back at the office or out there with the parishioners. He needs that space to recharge; he gives us time together, and it makes me feel important. He gives me my space, my time, our family time. For us, it works.

SC: We’ve covered a lot of things today. In conclusion, if we could gather all the ministers’ families from all over the world in one huge amphitheater, what would you say to them?

KP: To me, when I think about all the different ministers’ families, it’s like an enormous megapuzzle. And in a puzzle, as you know, every piece has to fit into its place, big or small. The puzzle is not complete unless all the pieces are there. And a small piece is just as important as a big one. The beautiful one is just as important as the obscure one. It’s the same with ministers’ families. We are all waiting and hoping for the Lord’s return, and what gives me encouragement is that we all do it together.

SC: I love that analogy. Each piece has a unique cut that, when merged together, makes a whole beautiful picture. Kari, thank you for being so open and honest about your life and family. And thank you for sharing your wisdom from fi fty years in the parsonage. God bless you.