The Sure Calling of a Small-Town Pastor’s Wife

The window of my basement bedroom framed the bright silver moon as I knelt by my bed. I was home for study/reading days after our annual missions’ conference at Bible college, and I was wrestling with God. You see, when you attend a Bible school that is known for sending out more than half of the missionaries in the world, you kind of think that when you go there, you will end up being called to some foreign land to serve the Lord.

That’s what I thought would happen to me. But I wasn’t wrestling with God over becoming a missionary in a village in Papua New Guinea that night. I felt God was calling me to be a pastor’s wife.  

Why was I hesitating? I distinctly remember telling God: “I can’t be like my pastor’s wife. I can’t be like my grandma who has served for years with my grandfather in a number of different churches and ministries across the US. And besides, I always wanted to be a missionary; this wasn’t what I had in mind, Lord! I can’t do that; it’s too hard. Everyone knows how hard it is to be a pastor’s wife. I can’t even keep a secret – how am I going to know all that stuff about people and keep my big mouth shut!?”  

Despite my excuses, I surrendered to the Lord that day, and I said ”yes” to becoming a pastor’s wife. That step of obedience was just the beginning of many that would lead me to where I am today.  

That next step came while on a tour bus loaded with chatty women. That may seem like an unlikely place to go for God to give a person a vision for the future, but then, since when have visions come in extraordinary places? For instance, Moses was doing what he did every day, caring for the sheep, when he first encountered God in the burning bush.   

While in Bible college, I sang with a women’s choir that toured the country every spring for two weeks, performing concerts all across the States. I will never forget the moment when God spoke to me about the mission field at home.

As we bumped along the endless labyrinth of highways, parked in small towns with even smaller churches, and stayed in people’s homes at each location, I knew that this was a mission field, too—not just the foreign places where the name of Christ had not yet been named. People here were lost and hurting and in need of the Savior just as much as the tribal people in the jungles of Africa or Asia.

So…now what? The call was clear for me: be a pastor’s wife and go to rural and small-town America, but with whom and where? It’s hard to be a pastor’s wife without a husband, and I could count on one hand the number of dates I’d had after a few years in Bible school. Plus, I was currently planted in the inner city of Chicago!

Of course, God had that all planned out, too, and despite my doubts on that moonlit night years ago, have I ever looked back? Certainly I’ve looked back in amazement at His grace, but looking back because I’ve regretted my decision to obey God’s call? Never! That’s what I’ve found to be the grace of a sure calling; it keeps you going when times get tough and assures you that God will complete the work He’s started in you.

Who would have thought that day when I surrendered to God’s call that I’d be here today sharing with other pastors’ wives all around North America through the web?

Truly, we serve a sovereign and great God, so it’s no wonder we are compelled to say “yes” when the call to obey comes. His love draws us to trust and obey, and we get to take an amazing, adventurous ride as we join Him in the work He is doing in the lives of people from every part of the world, even rural and small-town North America.

Welcome to my journey; may this flower of a story be the start of a bouquet of stories that we will share in Flowers For the Pastor’s Wife.

{Part 1 of 3}

GO HERE for Part 2
GO HERE for Part 3