“Are you hurting and broken within?
Overwhelmed by the weight of your sin?
Jesus is calling…”
When we sing this song in church, I can hardly get the words out past the lump in my throat. I know that to those in our church family who struggle with addictions and a dark past, my pastor-husband and I and our lineup of scrubbed and spit-shined children hardly seem like the crowd this song is directed to. But I know better, and so do you. We pastors’ wives have our own special ways of sinning, and on a Sunday morning I’m reminded again that the ground is level at the foot of the cross.
“Have you come to the end of yourself?
Do you thirst for a drink from the well?
Jesus is calling…”
Yes, I have come to the end of myself. Worn thin from needy children and needy people. Aching with the questions that tender souls ask that I really have no idea how to answer. Feebly offering prayer in situations where it feels trite. Always the pressure that there is not enough time, not enough resources, not enough people. Neglecting my own time in the Word but still showing up to teach Bible studies and classes. The well was there, all week, and how often did I drink from it? Forgive this pastor’s wife, Lord. For believing I can bear fruit unattached to The Vine, nothing more than deep, insidious arrogance. From ministering, parenting, in my own strength. Can I confess, even this? For filling a role with an unfilled heart.
“Leave behind your regrets and mistakes
Come today, there’s no reason to wait
Jesus is calling…”
Regrets and mistakes, yes, I have those as well. Rushing to get tasks done at home and at church without stopping to really look people in the eye, to slow down, to love the person right in front of me. The biting jealous thoughts that nip in the back of my mind when others are given opportunities I desire. Self-pity as I fill in for someone in the nursery for what certainly must be the hundredth time. Resentment when the ministry lifestyle calls me to go lower, calls me to give up precious quiet and sleep, calls me to serve in ways no one will ever notice, because since we’re being brutally honest here–can I confess I don’t always want all the glory to go to God? That sometimes a little piece of the glory pie sounds really rather satisfying? So often the Holy Spirit whispers to my grubby, grabbing heart, “Stay small, stoop lower; real ministry begins when you disappear so I can fill all.”
“Bring your sorrows and trade them for joy
From the ashes a new life is born
Jesus is calling…”
This offer to lay down my sin and shame helps me face the darkest ugliness in my own pastor’s wife’s heart. The haughty thoughts, because deep down I want to lead others from a place of thinking I’ve figured things out instead of from a place of brokenness. The inner push to use the role God has given my husband–not me–to leverage control, the advancement of my own agenda. The next time my critic lets loose, and all of her offenses flood back to my mind and I realize I am wallowing in unforgiveness. This is my only hope, that where sin increased, grace abounded all the more (Romans 5:20). Grace pounding down on me, as if I’m standing under a waterfall, more than I can hold, more than I can wrap my mind around; it’s tingling cold, not just washing me clean but waking me up, not just to my sin and my failures, but to the new life God offers. Could there be any more grievous sin than this–to stop repenting? But only the grace of God gives me the courage to look my sin squarely in the eye.
“O come to the altar
The Father’s arms are open wide
Forgiveness was bought with
The precious blood of Jesus Christ.”
This open-armed welcome, bought for me by Jesus, I need this. I need this as much as the mama two rows down who has three kids with three different daddies. I need it as much as my sister across the room who is trying, and failing, to spend a holiday sober for the first time in 40 years. I need it as much as all of my former LDS church family who have spent so many years lost in religious deception and are trying to pick through decades of beliefs to find truth. My own kind of pastor’s wife ugly finds forgiveness in the blood of Christ. Is there any greater joy than this? To sing with the fellowship of the broken…
“Oh what a Savior
Isn’t He wonderful?
Sing Hallelujah
Christ is Risen.”
Lyrics from “O Come to the Altar” by Elevation Worship
Oh Sarah, I’m so glad you were so real and personal. Only other pastor’s wives can relate and understand!! I believe that the Holy Spirit lead you to write this article!! I know that I needed to read this. My husband has been in the ministry for 31+ years and will retire this June. As you stated, wives aren’t called into “the ministry proper” but we find ourselves “ministering” regularly to others. We get “overloaded” and our sinful self sneaks out. That’s when we ask for forgiveness. We feel His blood wash over us and we feel our joy returning. Oh what a Savior He is!!