why I'm afraid I'll never be a good pastor's wife...

Adel Torres writes from California, where she is a wife to Pastor Jose, and mother to Toby. Adel is a missionary at heart, and spent time in India, Nepal, and other countries before marrying a pastor in the States. This deeply transparent post was originally published on Adel's blog "This Journey, My Home", where she writes about her life, insights, and stories. 

Disclaimer: When I wrote this, I'd just had an "aha" moment where I realized that my sense of unfitness isn't from trying to meet someone else's or my own unreasonable expectations. Rather, my feeling of being misplaced has to do with my own belief system. This is in no way an effort to discredit or discourage pastors, or even an attempt to justify my stance. It's simply venting my confusion...

Whenever I say to someone that I don't feel like a good pastor's wife, I'm asked what I expect a pastor's wife to look like and if I'm trying to meet an unreasonable standard.

I don't know how to answer.

I'm the biggest believer in "being myself" and yet, strangely, I have found it virtually impossible to be true and honest in the position I am in. How does a pastor's wife struggle with challenges in her own relationship with God without discouraging others? How does a woman with a quick, sarcastic sense of humor CONSTANTLY bite her tongue? How does a pastor's wife take hugs from people who are professionals at back-stabbing her husband?

The answer, of course, is to love as God loves, but sometimes that's easier said than done. In the meantime, I can be the picture of serenity and sweetness while inside I am a brewing volcano of frustration. Or suppressing laughter for some irony I've noticed that would be scandalous to point out.

Of one thing I am convinced: I desperately need to experience God's love so that I can be more gracious with others. That is something that I EARNESTLY pray for, and often I am so discouraged by my own hardness!!!!

But I'm sure I'm not the first pastor's wife to struggle with that.

There's also a deeper and more perplexing reason I'm afraid I'll never fit in the pastor's wife role. Deep down, I'm afraid I don't really believe in pastoring. I have such a hard time believing that so many Godly, educated, able-bodied men need to babysit populations of informed, capable, well-groomed pew-warmers while more than half of the world is starving to know about Jesus. I wish that the last 4 1/2 years had convinced me of the need for such a thing, but instead I have seen congregations in which part of the people resist leadership while those who don't resist are mature enough to lead themselves (and maybe some overlap between the two).

As I understand it, (at least in the worldwide denomination we serve) roughly 10% of American resources go to reach the 60% of the world that is untouched by the gospel. That means 90% of money, supplies, and people-power is spent on the 40% who are Christians or who already know about Christianity and don't want to be Christians.

That is a really big deal to me, and I can't seem to get over it no matter how much I pray for contentment in the role that I am in. "No one should hear the gospel twice," says a friend of ours, "as long as there are people who have never heard it once." Believe me, I see an allegory of this played out every week at potluck (especially at the dessert table). I believe in this strongly.

But I am obviously missing something, because I believe God led us into pastoral ministry, and that He has continued to do so. I've been waiting a long time for the Mission Boat to pick me up, and all the while God has gently been saying to me, "Wrong boat, honey, at least for now." I pick up mission magazines and I don't read them because they make me cry. I can't understand this passion, this burden in my heart that I believe God has put there.

For me, pastoral work and what I have firmly believed is "my overseas mission calling" have been in direct conflict. But this is where God put me. It is agonizing, and confusing. It has taken its toll on my faith.

I don't know what the future holds. God MUST put love in my heart. Will He fill in the missing piece of my belief system so that I see pastoral work as more of a valid and necessary calling? Will I be a pastor's wife forever?? I'm trying SO HARD not to think of that right now! Sometimes I'm thankful I can't see into the future.

Whatever it is, it's in God's hands. Today I'm taking it one day at a time, walking through the doors that open, praying to be a better wife and mother, and learning to trust that God will save the World (with or without me).

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what’s in a name?

What’s in a name? What is so important about a title? The importance lies in the identity that name or title places upon the bearer—whether that identity is in fact authentic or not. As the wife of a pastor, I am often given a title that may or may not appropriately belong to me.

There is the ubiquitous “Pastor’s Wife.” Most of my church members introduce me as “the Pastor’s wife,” and often neglect to even mention my name. I guess that is my name. The name implies that I am who I am because of the fact that I am married to a pastor—or The Pastor. Of course that is true, somewhat. I am who am because of the life I have lived with my husband, and the life I have lived in service to the Lord. But isn’t my husband who he is because of the fact that he is married to me? No one ever call’s him “Julie’s husband,” or “the Pastor’s Wife’s Husband.” No, he is simply “The Pastor.”

Then there is the title “First Lady,” which I never heard until we took a multicultural church. I’m not sure how that one makes me feel. Does that mean I have to always act like a “lady?” I am definitely not the perrineal lady. I prefer to live in sweats or jeans and sneakers, and I am the first one to change out of my church clothes after the church service—even if there are more events to come during the day. Plus, I have three boys and a very boyish husband; so being ladylike is not very fitting. And what about “first?” Is that referring to my status, or my timeliness? Because I am not the most punctual of people. In fact, as long as I arrive within 5 minutes of the start time—before or after—then I consider myself on time. (Whereas my husband feels that if you are “just” on time, then you are in fact late!)

I have other titles as well. There’s “Sister Pastor,” “Mrs. Pastor,” and even “Sister Brad.” (My husband’s name is Brad). Some call me "Sister Julie," "Sister Cassell," or even one young man calls me "Dr. C," (don't ask me why!). But not many people call me by just my name, with no title attached. Is that out of respect, or is it a barrier? Is it related to how hard it is for pastoral spouses to find a true friend in their church? (But we’ll discuss that in another post.)

So, who am I? I don’t really mind being called all of the aforementioned titles, as long as I know who I am. All I know is that I am Julie. I am the wife of a pastor, and the mother of three crazy but precious boys. But more than that, I am who I am because of my position in Christ. Because Jesus died on the cross for me, I can call God my Father. He calls me by name, and He knows my innermost being. He loves me for who I am, and for who He created me to be. I am the daughter of the King. So I guess that means you can just call me “Princess Julie.”

© CLUTCH, 2010 unless otherwise sourced.
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