>> March 23, 2010
For as long as I can remember, the one thing I always wanted was to be a missionary nurse living in a hut in some far-off land, telling the story of Jesus to people who never heard it before. Most nights during my childhood I drifted off to sleep with images of steamy jungles, headhunters, and thatch-roofed huts like in the bedtime stories Mom read to us. My dad was involved in ministry (though not pastoring) and his work took him across the sea on many great adventures. Each time we watched as his aircraft lifted off the runway, I couldn’t wait until the day I was the one taking off.
On one of those trips my daddy didn’t come home, and one little 8-year-old girl began longing for heaven like a grown woman. More than ever, I wanted the world to know the Good News so we could leave this lonely, painful planet behind and have that long-awaited reunion. In high school I found Jesus in a whole new way, and invited God the Father to be MY Father. I earned my nursing degree and watched many runways slip away behind me as I explored horizons told The Story in the Philippines, Albania, Nepal, India, and a few places in between.
I prepared myself for many things, none of which was being married to a pastor. In the midst of wedding and mission plans, God slipped my husband and I a temporary assignment to a 3-church district in what I have heard called “pretty much the only place in California that is just dead.” Many of our church members here have never been outside of California. Once, while I was preparing to share a mission talk, someone looked in the bulletin and asked me, “What is ‘Nepal’?”
After 3 ½ years of restless yearning for slipping runways, I am still struggling to learn the contentment Paul had in whatever state he found himself. I am less likely to attend a women’s ministries meeting or lead out in the Bible lesson than I was when I first came. But here in this “dead” valley of California, I have experienced the most amazing journey ever with the birth of my son in the Fall of ’09. For me, being a mother to my darling son Tobiyah ("Tobi") and a good wife to Jose, the man I love, are 99% of what being a pastor’s wife is all about. The other 1% is available for the church. And 100% of that must be recommitted every day to this God I am still learning to trust.
(I am natural child-birthing, exclusive breastfeeding, non-vaccinating, vegetarian, home-remedying, nature-loving, gardening, stay-at-home, and do-it-yourself. Incidentally, I DO shave my legs.)
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