An open letter to Grace Driscoll and pastors' wives everywhere.
Forgive me now, please. Normally I have my thoughts more well together before I sit down to write. I'm one week into a new semester, math and English homework are taking a toll on my brain. I'm sorry if I ramble or make little sense.
Today is Monday. Ideally a Monday should be a little calmer for women like you and me. Sunday is over. The smiles and the sermons, the handshakes and hugs, the early morning, last minute tasks, and the long afternoon waiting to leave the church parking lot. That was all done yesterday. And so today is Monday and it's a new week. It will be full of new activities, new planning, and new possibilities. But there is room for rest today. I hope you find it.
Like I said, ideally we would expect things to be calmer today because it's a Monday. I don't know how things go for you and your family, but Monday's don't typically slow down for me. They're different, but still just as busy. We're not a mega-church. In fact, we're just about as opposite from being mega as you can get. We're a young church plant (remember those days?) and we're actually in the middle of inheriting an older congregation to replant within our young plant. It's been full of amazing developments, lots of exciting moments unfolding, a LOT of hard work, and God moving right before our eyes. Birth and rebirth. It's all truly amazing and it's all for the glory of God. (And it's why we do what we do. The long days are worth it, as exhausting as they are.) So today I have reports to file, and lessons to plan, schedules to make, media to put together, and cleaning to wrap up. We're small, and we have few hands on deck, so the work load is heavy. But the blessings are abundant even though it all wears me out.
Ministry life for ministry families... it just gets hard sometimes, doesn't it?
Grace, I'm writing you this because even though our lives as ministry wives may be completely different, they're also all too much the same. Sometimes in ministry we face mountaintop moments. Things are smooth, lives are changing, and the kingdom of God grows a little bit bigger under our watch and care. Sometimes we're in a valley. The sun has set behind the mountains, clouds have rolled in. It can be pretty gloomy in the valley. Sometimes that big, strong man - the one we not only get to call pastor, but also have the blessing to call husband - sometimes he faces trial like nobody knows.
Or sometimes everybody knows.
It's hard to scroll through my homepages and newsfeeds today. I honestly can't say that I know what has happened. None of
us on the outside, no matter how many sources "reveal" information,
actually know what happened. It's none of our business. But it's still
hard to watch the stories be published. My heart hurts for you, for your children, for your
husband. My heart hurts for your ministry.
You see, while I may not know what it's like to be in a mega-church, I do know what it's like to feel protective of my pastor husband. I've seen my Bradley criticized and attacked. And that hurts. It hurts because I know him. I know his heart for this calling. I also know that he's imperfect, just like the rest of us. He has such a heavy load to carry. He's charged with the care of his flock and the care of his family. He has meetings and visits to make. He has studies and sermons and more studies to write. He has good days and he has bad days, just like the rest of us. Sometimes my protective nature rises up just because I feel like those in his care don't appreciate him and all he sacrifices. Sometimes it rises up when I see people talking through his sermon. Those are petty responses, they're things that result in me repenting and asking God for renewal to serve and love as He's called us to do. I just know that my Bradley gives so much of himself and sometimes it bothers me to think that it goes unnoticed. Imperfection runs rampant around these parts. Now, sometimes Brad falls to the flesh and he makes a mistake. I've never seen that not result in an apology, but just the same, somebody hurts as a result of his sin. And sometimes he doesn't make any mistake but still somebody gets hurt. And even then he apologizes, because he only wants to serve God and serve others. That's the heart of a God ordained pastor. But apologies don't always fall on open ears or open hearts, regardless of fault. And that's where the criticism starts. That's where the attacks begin. People we see as friends so easily turn against us. Rumors can spread like a wild fire. Sometimes we put up walls, because it's almost easier to be lonely in ministry than feeling the hurt when friends fall away.
Ministry is hard. We're just these imperfect people trying so hard to tell others about our perfect God. We can't compare to Him. But we hope, even if just for a moment, that those we love and are called to serve will know why we do what we do. It's not about us. Goodness no. It makes for a glass house life, and nobody wants that.
I can't know exactly what you're facing today. I don't know if you're feeling protective, or hurt, or lonely. I don't know if you're walled up or letting those you trust most lift you up and encourage you through this trial. But what I do know is that there is no way that I'm the only one who aches for you, who feels a burden to pray for you, who knows the pain of seeing my pastor husband hurt. I hope you are encouraged. I hope that Christ is giving you all you need to encourage your husband and your children. I pray that your church family is rallying around you, in support and care.
In your time of trial may you find rest. In your time of trial may you feel His overwhelming comfort. In your time of trial, above all else, may God be glorified.
Much love and so many prayers,