The Pastor’s wife

Last updated on: May 23, 2011 at 7:47 pm by Melissa

The Pastor’s wife 2011-05-23T19:47:00-06:00 Melissa

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I am the Pastor’s wife.

I’ve seen him stress about preaching a sermon that just wouldn’t come together smoothly that week, and then heard his surprise after the Sunday service when someone thanks him for such a powerful message.

I’ve seen him pour his heart and soul into a message, only to have it fall flat on Sunday morning. Or worse, be misunderstood by people who only ever hear their own agenda in anything that others say.

I know when he is preaching his message to himself. And I know when he is having a hard time believing what he is preaching. He is never unorthodox, but some weeks it is a struggle to believe it all.

I am the Pastor’s wife.

I know when he makes it through a council meeting and arrives home relaxed. I know when he comes home and paces in the living room, for hours into the night.

I get to see him renewed in his faith after Pastoral visit where he was able to encourage someone who recently lost a spouse or a child.

I see when he comes home frustrated from a visit with a concerned congregation member who insists that he is not preaching enough on sin and condemnation and hellfire.

I am the Pastor’s wife.

I know when he was up multiple times on Saturday night to help me with a puking baby, and still has to manage to get behind the pulpit and try to say something coherent.

I know when he spent his week washing the dishes and ordering pizza when there was no dinner, and rubbing the feet of his overly pregnant wife every night.

I know when the entire day before was spent fighting and crying over things that cannot be changed.

I am the Pastor’s wife.

I’m the one who forgets to dry clean his suits, and sometimes makes him arrive at church later than he’d like to be. I’m the one who smoothes his hair, ties his tie and tucks his mike into his pocket on Sunday morning. I’m the one who holds his hand while we sing praise songs together, and sits alone while he goes up to preach. I’m the one who kisses him in the car on the way home.

I’m the one who knows that he is just as human as anyone else. I’m the only one who knows how high he flies and how hard he falls, and loves him more than you’ll ever know.

I am the Pastor’s wife.

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