From My Own Book of Revelation: All Pastors’ Wives are not Alike

Not long after I started this blog three and a half years ago, some people questioned the title. They said, “Why identify yourself as a ‘pastor’s wife’ when you’re obviously more than that? It’s so limiting.” This is true to an extent. In a way, I guess, I was poking some fun—right from the beginning—at the label. Show me a stereotype, almost any kind, and I’ll try hard to show the exception. In this case, I didn’t have to try too hard.

The fact that there was such a thing as a “regular” pastor’s wife  seemed odd. I mean, honestly, us women—just like men—come in an infinite variety, no matter who are spouses are. On the other hand, though, I have always been perfectly content to be merged with a clergyman (at least the particular one involved), and very proud of the work that he does. What’s not to like about helping people, offering them beautiful services with thought-provoking sermons, being there both in their times of need and of great joy? It’s meaningful work, it’s his calling, and it supports our family. No small thing, that last one. I have also been grateful for the world of new experience our marriage has opened up to me. I keep learning, while I always strive, stubbornly perhaps, to keep my own fundamental self–the one formed in childhood–intact.

And so it was with great interest that I read an email that came to me, via the blog, a few weeks ago. Here’s how it began:

 

Dear Friend,

I’m writing on behalf of Gloria Furman and Crossway to offer you a complimentary electronic advance reader copy of her upcoming book, The Pastor’s Wife….

During the month of March, Crossway will also be hosting Pastor’s Wife Appreciation Month, a 31-day online campaign to encourage the wives of men in ministry….Note: Here’s the link to that site.

We would be honored if you would read The Pastor’s Wife and consider reviewing it on your blog….

 

Here was an interesting development, confirming what I’ve always known: I’m one pastor’s wife swimming in a sea of them out there in the blogosphere. And whoever wrote to me must have cast a net over the waves and caught a whole bunch of us. In a way it’s kind of embarrassing: why do we think we have anything more compelling to say than, say, a truck driver’s wife or an accountant’s wife? Blah, blah, blah…

But then, how could I not feel a little, well, distinguished by the request? It’s a bit like how I felt joining my tennis or hockey teams, or the group of mentors working with middle school girls, or the writing group that meets once a month: a sense of belonging can wrap any of us in comfort, like a cozy blanket. They think that I’m legitimately one of them and that my promotion of the book might actually carry some weight? Ok, then!

Once I started reading Gloria Furman’s text, however, I realized that the good people at Crossway—an evangelical Christian organization– probably hadn’t actually read any of my blog. Otherwise they might’ve thought twice about asking for a plug from me. Truth be told, if pastors’ wives make up some kind of a continent, I sometimes feel that I’m on my own little island. In my most cheerful moments, though, I imagine there are a whole bunch of us, and we’re more like an archipelago.

The full title of this book is The Pastor’s Wife: Strengthened by Grace for a Life of Love. It’s intended to provide support to women (yes, no mention of men now becoming clergy spouses) who, in the line of duty by their husbands’ sides in church work, often feel overwhelmed by the weight of the expectations put upon them. Members of congregations, according to her account, chide us for not wearing nice jewelry, expect us to have well-behaved children, to be constant nurturers with a never-ending spring of good will, even to see that the broken air-conditioner at church gets fixed. I kid you not. This kind of treatment, generated with all good intentions of course, can try the patience of even the most faithful among us.

I thank my lucky stars that, unless I’ve missed an undercurrent somewhere, I haven’t gotten this particular vibe from parishioners. For the pastors’ wives (mostly in other denominations, and mostly in the Midwest and the South) who are deeply involved in church life, however, this may well be a fact of life. In any case, she says that when these expectations get to be too much, we need to — over and over again—remind ourselves that God is there for us, that we find our identity in Christ. And then we will come to a kind of oasis, and all will be well. She says:

 

I’ll just put my cards on the table—I think wives of ministers need encouragement and refreshment in the Lord, and we find that hope and help in the gospel. (p.20)

 

It’s not hard to see how Ms. Furman herself would feel overwhelmed: she’s living in the Middle East, far away from any relatives, where her husband is involved in “church planting”; she has four young children; and her husband, besides being full up with his parishioners, suffers from a chronic condition causing him pain and so probably he is limited in what he can do around the house. That adds up to one tough situation for any woman, who might want to collapse occasionally on the couch while kids are napping rather than muster up more energy to join her mate in his chosen work. I admire her gumption and her stamina as well as her willingness to serve others.

No “but” will follow that last sentence. I only want to point out that, right from her Preface, I could tell that she and I are cut from different cloth. She says:

 

My husband and I were married three weeks after he started seminary, and we have been in full-time ministry together ever since.

 

Wow. This was an enormous commitment she made. Is she, I wonder, also getting paid for her work? Perhaps that seems crass of me to ask. I married my husband about when he was mid-stream in seminary, and it never occurred to me that I would alter my career path (however foggy it has sometimes seemed) to take on the full-time role of  “spouse of…” He didn’t ask me to do this, and thank goodness. We know many couples who work together happily, but they’ve often had the same education and training and each individual earns his or her own salary, or at least they’ve decided to go into business together – something wholesome, like raising alpacas for instance– and divide up the chores.

This, it seems to me, could be just fine and dandy. It really depends on the circumstances, and of course on the individuals involved.

About in the middle of the book, Ms. Furman goes beyond saying that she and her husband are equal partners, indicating how she thinks the hierarchy should go in a Christian household:

 

A wife’s submission to Jesus in submitting to her husband is a victory banner she waves as Jesus advances his kingdom. The scorn of modernity is no match for the pleasure of God as we submit to husbands as they lead us, wash us with the Word, and daily die to themselves for us. (p. 86)

 

Here, I must confess, I’m having real trouble. Could someone explain to me how submitting to a husband is just like waving a victory banner? Whatever’s going on in her house sure is different than what happens in mine. I’m all for serving my hard-working pastor a nice warm supper when he comes home, and sharing words together—that’s good, but at least until I get a whole lot more feeble, he doesn’t need to lead or wash me, thank you very much.

The other night I watched a good segment on Sixty Minutes about how women are faring as they try to make it through basic training in the Marines. Talk about hard. You couldn’t really imagine a more challenging ordeal— physically, mentally, in every which way. Did you think that women couldn’t do pull-ups? Well, turns out we can. Carrying those heavy packs over miles of 100 plus degree heat, though, and climbing up ropes when they’re weighed down with stuff—these things have often eliminated women from getting through. I was inspired by what one recruit, with hair pulled back tight, said when the interviewer asked how she felt about her chances of success, when she knew that most women thus far had fallen short. Without hesitating, she said something like, “Well, that doesn’t really affect me, because I’m not them, and they’re not me. I’m going to just try to be the best Melissa I can be.”

Don’t you just love this? She wasn’t putting anyone down, only trying to focus on her own particular road ahead, with optimism. You go get ‘em, Melissa.

OK—being a pastor’s wife is almost nothing like trying to join the Marines. For one thing, I know there are a whole lot of women who have succeeded in “the role” insofar as they have managed to balance a variety of factors—some external, some internal– and found happiness doing so. All I really know for sure is that there can’t be any kind of Rule Book that makes sense for all of us, because we spouses come with a rainbow of different beliefs, personalities, stages of life, and, now, genders too. And so do our spouses, matter of fact.

For now, I’m still content with the name of my blog. It’s “The Panorama” (how I see things spread out all around, from my perch) but it’s also “A Pastor’s Wife”(I am only one among multitudes.) I don’t really know who “The Pastor’s Wife” is, but I’d be glad to sit down and have a nice cup of tea with her. We’d sure have a lot to talk about.