Frank About Me and Ministry
Those of you that know me well at all, know that I don't beat around the bush, I'm willing to stand by myself for what I believe in, and I shoot straight when you talk to me about issues. So, thus the existence of a little something I call "FRANK FRIDAY" in my blog. A place where I am completely up front and frank with you on my stance on things.
It's hard to believe that summer is over, the school year as started, leaves are beginning to change, and that October is right around the corner. With October comes "Pastor's appreciation month." I am often asked questions regarding our ministry and life. I thought that October, and the weeks leading up to it, would be a great time to share what life is like in a Pastor's home.
I know that most of my blog readers fit into one of these categories:
1. You are a Pastor's wife
2. You are related to a Pastor
3. You are friends with a Pastor
4. You attend church, so therefore you have a Pastor!
If you fit into the categories of 2, 3, or 4 you might be wondering if any of this would
be of any interest to you and why. I think that it would be a great window for you
into the world of the Pastor that is in your life, and how you can best support, pray
for, encourage, and relate to Pastors and their families. If you fit into the first
category, I hope that you might be able to gain from this the insight into other's lives
that are in your same shoes. In this upcoming series, I will be sharing the results
of a survey I did of 62 Pastor's wives. I personally found it encouraging to hear the
stories, experiences, and advice these ladies shared,and hope that it will be to you
as well.
Before I get into all of that though, I thought that first I should share with you a little
bit about my life and why I am so passionate about this topic of the Pastor and the
Pastor's family. I will try to keep this concise, and to the point!
I am a P.K. (Pastor's kid), I have 4 uncles that are Pastor's, I have 3 first cousins that
are pastors, My brother is a pastor, and I am married to a pastor. My family jokingly
refers to ourselves as the "Ministry Mafia." We often say, "Once you are in the
family, there's no way out of the ministry."
I accepted Jesus Christ as my Saviour when I was five years old. At that time, my
understanding of salvation and the commitment I was making, was simply that I did
not want to go to hell when I died. Like most other young children, the understanding
of letting God be the Lord of my life didn't make any sense to me at that time. I
didn't grasp the part about giving up my kingdom to God's authority.
My family was a very conservative one in many ways. I grew up being in church every
chance the doors were opened, and even when they weren't....we had the key! It was like
my second home. I did every single Awana verse that there ever was. I went on every
youth group trip, went to Christian camps and retreats several times a year, went on
missions trips, etc. In some senses, there was "fruit" or evidence of my salvation, because
I remember always having a deep concern for those that didn'tknow Jesus as their Saviour.
I witnessed a lot to my friends, brought them to church, and even wept for various friends
and relatives that were going to hell if they died. In other areas though, the evidence of my
salvation wasn't there. Naturally my kingdoms/control areas, changed as I changed and
grew older. By late Jr. High my control areas that I held onto so dearly were morphing:
friends, what I wore, music, movies, extra-curricular activities, boys, etc. Very normal
teenager stuff. These started out small, and gradually grew and intensified. Through a
series of unfortunate events I started shutting out my parents and family, and becoming
more and more removed mentally and emotionally from my parents, family, and church.
I was still there in body, but long gone in my heart and in my head. Most people that were
saved as small children rededicate their lives, and deepen their walk with the Lord as they
grow more aware of what all is involved with salvation. The more I realized what was
entailed, the more I tried to remove myself from the Lord and His leading and control in
my life. I didn't really care to have one more person breathing down my neck and trying
to control my every move. I just really wanted to leave my salvation experience at the
"not going to hell" part, and call it good. I didn't want God to ask anything more of me.
Most of all, I did NOT want to HAVE to marry a PASTOR! Not ever, never, no way!
My college years were a disaster that had been waiting to happen. I attended very
conservative Christian colleges to appease my parents. I always seemed to find the other
kids that were in my same commitment level with God. We got into a lot of trouble
together and kept each other distracted from focusing on the Lord. In many ways, those
years were good for me, because I did a lot of study in God's Word and sorted through what
I believed. In the long run God's word that I heard as a child, memorized in Awana, and
studied in college did not return void. God was subtly and quietly working in my life and
heart. I knew that God was pursuing me and I was scared to death! I was scared that He
would MAKE me marry a Pastor! I just knew that if I submitted to God, that being a
Pastor's wife would be my fate. I was open to maybe some sort of Christian camping
ministry, but definitely not to being a Pastor's wife! I actually tried everything I could
to repel the young men I knew that were going to be Pastors. I wanted to repulse them
so that it would be obvious that they weren't meant for me! When I had just turned 22,
I met Ryan, who is now my husband. He was a youth pastor in a town 20 minutes from
where my parents lived. I thought he was interesting and nice, but not "my type"
...whatever that was. I attempted to repulse him as well, but he kept being nice.
In the mean time though, I made a lot of really bad decisions, and caused a lot of people
pain. Those decisions caught up with me to the point that I was miserable with my mere
existence. I really found myself reaching bottom. I was at the point of not even wanting to
live any more. I remember one particular Saturday night, I was 23 years old. As I sat
alone in my apartment, I could see VERY clearly that I had a decision to make because
I could not go on the way I was living. I knew my choices were A. End it all or B. Give
God a chance in the driver's seat. I decided to give God a chance. If all else failed, I
could always resort to A. but didn't really want that to be my first choice!
I got up early the next morning and decided to go to church. I hadn't done this in a long
time, and thought that would be a great place to start with my new decision. I attended
my dad's church that morning of all places. Of ALL the topics and Scripture passages in
the Bible that could have been preached on that day, he spoke on the prodigal son!
(Luke 15:11-32) I sat there in tears the whole service. I find it amazing that I even
listened to the sermon at all, because, like every Pastor's kid, you learn to just tune
out the drone of your dad's voice because you hear it so much! I certainly heard it that
day though!
What is even more amazing, is that I came back to church that night! Back in the day,
most churches were still having evening services. I think it shocked my dad that I was
there too. I remember the whole scene like it was yesterday. I was sitting the third
row from the back of the sanctuary. I was right in the middle of the pew, with people
on both sides of me. My dad sort of recapped what he had talked about in the
morning....the prodigal son, and then gave an invitation to come to the front and
"come back home to the Father who is waiting with open arms." Nobody moved,
nobody went forward. Once again, I was in tears. As if something else was controlling
my body, I found myself standing up, crawling over all of the people in my row, and
walking down the center aisle towards the front...I could feel everyone's eyes on me.
There in the front stood my earthly father with open arms, as well as my heavenly
father. I remember my dad just hugging me for a long time and I didn't care at all
that it was in front of a couple hundred people. I was so relieved to be done with
the running away from God and trying to make life work with my own rules.
The following Thursday, I attended a college Bible study in my hometown, and
sure enough, guess who was there?!? Ryan. I broke down at the end of the night,
and was sobbing. Probably still to this day, none of my friends that were with me
even know why I was crying so hard. I was upset, mad, and scared because I just
knew that I was going to end up marrying Ryan....a PASTOR! We weren't even
dating, and hardly even knew each other, but for some reason I had a feeling that
night that this was how things were going to play out. Sure enough...two days later,
Ryan called and asked me out. The rest is history. We got engaged 5 and half weeks
later, and got married 6 months after that. Talk about a traumatic transition! Here
I had been drinking like a fish, partying, and being very selfish and inappropriate
for years! I make a decision one night, and seven and a half months later I am
married to a Pastor. Then to top it all off, our three month wedding anniversary,
I found out I was pregnant with our oldest daughter, Molly. WOW! God's plans
were not my own, that's for sure!
The night I surrendered to God was October 25, 1998. That was almost eleven years ago.
(As a sidebar, my son Joseph was born on October 25, 2006! Cool huh?) Now I look at my
life and see how God reached down into a deep dark pit and rescued me from myself. He
also has used Ryan incredibly to be a human example of what God's forgiveness is like.
In many ways, Ryan has ministered Jesus' love to me. If I could change things and
choose another career and way of life for myself and my family, I wouldn't. This journey
in ministry has been so hard in many ways, but so wonderful in more ways. I have
grown immensely, been refined, and have been blessed through it. I can't imagine for
myself doing anything other than what we are doing now. I don't think I would find
anything else worth doing.
Well, that is my story of how I ended up a Pastor's wife, and why I am so passionate
about Pastor's and their families. In the next few weeks, I hope to encourage those of you
who are in Pastoral ministry. For those of you who aren't in Pastoral ministry, my goal is
to shed some light on our humanity, struggles, and day to day life. As I mentioned before,
I am going to also share some of the results of some surveys I did a few years ago. I
interviewed 62 Pastor's wives, and 39 Pastor's kids. The insight and results of these
survey's were amazingly impacting on my life. I hope it will be on your life as well!
Posts
Enjoyed your post. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you so much for sharing your testimony Julie! I got chills when I was reading the part about you walking down the aisle into your dad's arms! I was totally cracking up about you trying to repulse pastor's! You are too funny! Love you!
Suzy
Julie,
Thanks for sharing your story. I cried. I also am a pastor's kid and though my experience was different than yours, I totally "get" what you went through and am very thankful that you came out on the other side! God's side that is!! I am looking forward to what you will blog about your interviews. For some reason I think I was one of the interviewees...was I? I vaguely remember you asking me to talk about my experience once and I think I did...can't remember.
Blessings,
Heather
Thanks for sharing that, and for being so real.