I have a blog. An often neglected, not posted upon for months blog. Do I really need another one? I guess since I’ve been reading the blog posts of my friend Sarah I’ve come to realize that just writing about my daughter only gives a small window into my life….my identity is more than just Petra’s Mommy. I am a lot more than that. So today I think I will begin a blog about all the other hats I wear. Oh I’m sure Petra will creep into it from time to time – she is my one and only after all. But I have a lot to say and it isn’t all about toddlerhood. And just maybe….what I have to say is actually valuable.
So let’s start with my most public role: wife to a full-time Youth and Evangelism pastor.
How do you define a youth pastor’s wife? There isn’t really a title that even comes close to describing what the wives (or husbands I suppose) of ‘that youth guy’ (or gal) actually do. Secretary…treasurer…artist… ..cook…..janitor….professional chair and table set up person…PowerPoint guru….counselor…musician… …organizer…therapist…van driver…nurse…wife…mother…and the list goes on and on..
My husband David, and I have been in full time youth ministry for 12 years. When we got married, we determined that we would have a ministry of marriage. From start to finish, we would be a united front transforming the lives of people by the power of the Holy Spirit for the upbuilding of HIS kingdom. Never would I be a woman who sat on the sidelines, oblivious to the warfare my husband was raging in the spirit realm. No, I would be at his side, holding up his arms when he needed me to and doing my own warfare with all the passion and strength a handmaiden of the Lord can bring to the battle. We agreed that he would not protect me from the messy side of ministry – if something bad went down, he didn’t shield me from it like I hear a lot of modern ministers suggesting husbands should do with their spouses. We faced it head on, as a team. The end result of that? I’m probably a little more cynical and a lot more realistic about church work than some minister’s wives I know. My priorities are a little different because my perspective is different. And my husband knows without a shadow of a doubt that if the whole world was to turn their back on him, I’d be standing right beside him, because nothing has been hidden, and I’ve never walked away.
Being a youth pastor’s wife is easier than being a pastor’s wife, I’ll say that right up front. I’ve worn both hats, and I definitely prefer the former to the latter. The stereotypes and the expectations for the Senior Pastor’s wife are so unbending and so unrealistic at times it makes me wonder how any woman in the role keeps her sanity. Everything about her from her wardrobe to her mannerisms to her facial expressions to her very personality is scrutinized and compared to every previous model who came before her. It’s not fun and it takes a lot of self-confidence not to be defined by people’s expectations, especially when they are so loudly and unabashedly expressed.
I think the hardest stereotype for the youth pastor’s wife to overcome is the stigma of youth and inexperience. You are married to ‘that youth guy’ who everyone looks at like he’s 20 (even if he’s 34 and has been doing this for 17 years) and you can’t possibly know what you’re talking about. You are so young (even if you don’t feel like it) you can’t have ever dealt with anything like this before. The powerful try to snowball you, the manipulative try to manipulate you, and the kinder ones just humor you.
Being a youth pastor’s wife isn’t just fraught with challenges though – it is full of those amazing ‘God’ moments when He does things that completely blow your mind and mess up your whole paradigm of ‘church the way we know it’. Teenagers are such complicated creatures; full of potential and angst, energy and laziness, passion and apathy all at the same time. One minute they can say something so profound or minister in such a tender way that it leaves tears in your eyes, and the next minute you are ready to strangle them for their wishy-washy attitudes and worldliness. I love them. They make me laugh until it hurts. When they worship unashamedly I weep for joy. They jump in eyes closed, arms wide open, into the deep end of ministry with you and are just happy to go along for the ride, where ever Jesus takes us. That astonishes me. I have an unending passion for teenagers and probably will be in some kind of youth ministry when I have a walker and have to take my hearing aids out to stand the music at the concerts I go with them to see. 
I am glad Petra already knows what human videos are and wants to be in the drama team when she gets bigger. I am thankful for the half dozen texts I get a day from my teens because they love me and want me connected to their life. I treasure every hug, every heart-to-heart talk, every tear shed on my shoulder. I praise God for every soul saved, every teen filled with the Spirit and every young man and woman called to the service of the King. I even look back fondly to the all night lock-ins and hour long road trips – for all the hours of sleep I lost can’t be replaced but neither can the hours of one-on-one ministry tranformation that occured in those times.
I have it pretty good, I must say.
A Healing Place 