Sunday, November 16, 2014

Being a Pastor's Family

As a kid, I was most known for one label, a pastor's kid. (Most commonly called "PK") I had it the worst because, not only was I a PK, but I was the kid of a PK. A second generation. I learned at a very early age that my dad's occupation put labels on how I should act, what my grades should reflect, how I should dress... And when a slip-up occurred, the first thing to be said was, "And you're a preacher's kid." According to society, the standard to which I was to live was my father's occupation. Most PKs are grouped into 2 categories: rebellious terrors or too sheltered to think for themselves. To be honest, I (nor most of the PKs I know) fall into those categories. I most likely would call us, "fighting the same spiritual battles as everyone else while being held to a nearly impossible standard".

I also ended up marrying a pastor and I find many of the standards have remained the same, but with the new label of "Pastor's wife" but the label I call myself hasn't changed a bit.

Many people assume that being part of a pastor's family is miserable. Many expect that we are all busting to get free from it and people have asked why I wanted to get tangled back in it after living with it my whole life. 

The truth is, I LOVE being a PK and a pastor's wife (why does no one call us PWs? Does that sound like POW? I will start it now. PDubs unite!) While it is true that many Sundays, we are at the church for a collective 8-9 hours and that our evenings are filled differently, so are our hearts. As a kid, I did my piano practice during deacon meetings and used WD-40 to remove gum from carpet during choir practice (I LOVED that job). As a PW, we have a science for juggling our kids on Wednesday and Sunday nights. We get the privilege of kids coming home from college and coming over to tell us how they're still serving and learning. And that Nina identifies certain sports moves by which youth kid she has watched perform it during an evening sporting event. (We play "Jake Tyler" all of the time.)

Many church members get in a rut of only socializing with people near their age or same life experiences. As a pastor's family, we get the privilege of knowing all ages: young and the wisest. As a kid, I had tons of adopted aunts and uncles and grandparents, many of whom still hold those spots in my heart now. As a youth pastor's wife, we get to see these middle school kids come in and are super rowdy and we question them getting anything we're trying to teach them. Then, they come in as older high schoolers challenging US to be better and more passionate. 

I have also found that being a PK is its own secret society. There are things that most kids never think of. As Nina becomes more aware of her dad's job, I am teaching her the unspoken rules of being a PK:
- When someone comes to the house to talk to Dad, you play quietly in another part of the house. You don't ask why they're there and try your best to not overhear anything. 
- (My friend Abie's rule, age 13. Former PK, now a missionary's kid, aka "MK") When someone is coming over, they usually talk in the kitchen. Get your snacks early. 
- When socializing after church, do your best to not repeat the church business that you overheard in the car. (I had to learn that one the hard way.)

The truth is, I love doing ministry and I love that my ministry is intertwined with my husband's. I love that Nina and Brooks have 40 big brothers and sisters who teach her to serve others and to love big. I never have hated being a PK or PW because I have had the privilege of living with pastors who live ministry and not just teach it. I have seen their tears over other people's pain, their joy over life and love, and their devotion to a profession that is so much more than a label, but their passion. This life that I live isn't a life of obligation, but a joy of a daily challenge to a higher devotion. 

(That, and someone is always baking for us. Grin.)