The Pastor's Wife: MAD

Friends, welcome! I felt impressed to share a piece of my story and season with you today. I hope you like it. "The Pastor's Wife" will be a series here on the blog for the next few weeks. Whatever your story, wherever you find yourself today, may these words offer you hope and encouragement for your own season.

So much love! XO

  Photo Credit: Director, Krissy Collins; Photographer and Editor, Gabi Brown

Photo Credit: Director, Krissy Collins; Photographer and Editor, Gabi Brown

- BY KRISSY COLLINS

He said he had a meeting and he’d be home in the late evening. My heart could no longer restrain my frustration, so I let it free, releasing it till the clean clothes folded neatly in their basket were salty wet. 

Yesterday, my heart exploded. And I told him. I told him that most days I feel like a single parent. I told him that I knew it was our life and I knew this was our season, but today the call was too heavy to carry. 

I stopped there. Putting down the phone, I dried my eyes and got back to work. 

The greatest calling of my life has been to build into eternity with my husband. We’ve built little humans and we’ve built lovely people and we’ve built life-giving ministries. But some days I cry. Some days I don’t want to build. Some days I don’t want to sacrifice. 

I am a pastor’s wife, and I am a mother. But I’m also a dreamer. I have dreams and I have goals and for now, for a season, some of them are on a shelf. And these dreams, they glare at me. So I’ll pick them up, giving my mind permission to wander, only to realize they belong on that top shelf....at least for now. 

So, I ask God why. And I have exasperated moments in my car and in the shower, throwing up my hands demanding He give an answer. And I hear, First, quit sulking so you may listen.

Silence. 

I grab my towel and make my way to the bedroom. I wasn’t ready to listen. I was tired and lonely, and I didn’t want to give up my right to be upset. I sit and open my Bible, naturally to Proverbs because clearly I need a lesson.

In obedience I sit. I sit frustrated, I sit broken and drained, but I trust. My sulky posture silences, and He softens me.  He doesn’t reprimand me for my anger. He doesn’t order me to straighten up my feelings. Like a palm massaging a cramped muscle, He kneads my knotty heart, until every edge is shaped with purpose.

He leans in, Krissy, this faith I give…it is not a suck-it-up faith. Don’t ignore your season, and don’t just get by. Press in. 

We press in with our fury and we sit with all our confusion and we wait. We wait for transformation to wash over us, giving sight to our blind eyes, making us better not bitter.

And it’s in these moments I’m reminded that there are some lessons that must be reminded, retaught, and retrained.

HOME IS MY FIRST MINISTRY.  No matter what we ever do with our lives, that will be the case. Since having my youngest child, life has adjusted. Before she was born, I'd throw my oldest in the car and we'd stay gone, but that's not suitable anymore. And just as my season has shifted, I have to learn to bend with it.  I say no more than I say yes right now, and it pains me. This isn't always a popular message. There seems to be a lot of unspoken expectations for wives in ministry, but I'm learning to silence the voices. I'm accountable to my husband and to God, so I lean into that and let the rest go. There are many needs and demands that I ache to meet, but not at the expense of my family. There are those who are in more appropriate seasons in their lives to carry the weight, and goodness we are grateful for them, for our team.

There are many dreams I dream, but for now, for a season, they are on that shelf, and I can trust that God will keep the dust from collecting as long as I keep first things first. 

IT'S NOT HIS CALLING, BUT OURS.  My husband gets to do most of the running right now, and this is where I cry, because all I really want is to run with him and our people. Throw the kids in the back, and let's load up the Camry! And while that’s possible some of the time, it’s not beneficial most of the time...at least not for us. I want to punch routine and consistency in the face, but God blessed us with two sweet girls who crave it and need it. It’s important that I keep a careful watch over their hearts and souls and that those things do not go neglected. 

But this is still my calling too. This call was not just intended for him, while I used to think so (but that’s for another post)...it was also intended for me. Our roles look a little different right now, but the moment we begin to divide and split is the moment we fail. This is important because, while the life we lead is beautiful with many moments of celebration, it is also the narrow path, the toilsome road. Both of our jobs, while they may look different, require a lot of sacrifice and pouring out. And we have learned that in moments of weariness and weakness, when we reach the ends of ourselves, we need to be able to call upon the other to lift our arms and carry us forward. Linking arms is vital for the hard times...but also for the great ones, because it's where we dream and imagine and risk together. 

The truth is, I can’t do any of this well if I’m not staying close to the Father’s feet. It is much easier to resent the work than to get behind it. I’m grateful for a patient God that can handle my tears, my frustrations and all my messiness, because it’s very much there. His reminders console me and His revelations renew me. He doesn’t want us to just get by...He longs to transform our hearts even if our situations never do.

...

I hear the door open, and his gentle footsteps turn the corner. He sees my tears, and he pulls me close. “They’ve got it covered tonight, babe. This is where I want to be. I can’t always, but tonight it's taken care of. Let's enjoy our evening together.”