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James 3:1 and the Trembling Teacher

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Every Sunday I gather with a group of about twenty or so women and I teach them the Bible. Even writing that here feels strange because I know that there are better Bible teachers out there. I know that there are women and men with more knowledge, more spiritual discipline, more wisdom, more polish, a better prayer life, a more consistent study routine. I know there are times when I try to teach things that are out of my depth. I know that I don’t always communicate as clearly as I should, and there is an ever-present gnawing in my spirit that wonders whether my teaching is doing good or harm. Whether I have spoken out of turn about things that I don’t fully understand. Whether I have stated the absolute truth or unwittingly said something that isn’t consistent with the whole counsel of God’s word. And I often leave my class concerned about something I did or didn’t say. Something that I forgot to explain. Something that I wish I had brought up, or something that I wish I hadn’t delved into.

The truth is that when you talk for almost an hour, you use a lot of words. You say a lot of stuff. And afterward I usually wrestle with the fear that my words didn’t communicate. Or that they communicated something untrue or discouraging or useless.

I think that most Bible teachers feel this way, and I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing. It’s important for those of us who have been called to teach God’s word to approach the job with humility and, yes, trembling. Our confidence in the Bible shouldn’t necessarily translate into confidence in our own abilities and giftings. We get into dangerous territory as teachers when we let pride and self-assurance rule our work. After all, we can’t forget that James warned that not many should even attempt this job because we will be held accountable for what comes out of our mouths. It seems unconscionable to approach the sacred job of teaching the Bible with flippancy or an over-inflated sense of our own competence.

That being said, I think as a teacher I often forget that God can use my willingness and my effort, even if the result is imperfect. Even if my presentation could have been smoother or my explanations clearer. I’m guilty of subtracting the power of the Holy Spirit when I am figuring how things went in a particular lesson, and that in itself is a sign that I have become too focused on myself: my own weaknesses and failings. In truth, if I have prepared to the best of my ability, prayerfully presented God’s word to my class with a sincere desire to glorify the Lord, then when I walk away I should trust that He can do something with even my imperfect efforts. And He has proven that’s true. Many times when I am agonizing over something that I wish I hadn’t brought up in the moment, I’ll get a text or an email from one of my class members, telling me it was exactly what they needed to hear. Could it be that the Holy Spirit inspired that couple of sentences when I thought I was just chasing rabbits? Maybe so. What I do know is that God tells us clearly in scripture that when His word goes out, it won’t return empty. There is power in the inspired words of our Lord, and when we approach our job with a little bit of trembling, just because of the honor of it, the precious calling of being entrusted with it, I believe that He will use that for His own glory.

So, trembling teacher, it’s good to feel the weight of your responsibility. It’s good to realize that this work shouldn’t be taken lightly. Preparing to teach should be a careful and diligent process, one that is steeped in prayer and study and conscientiousness. But it’s also essential to remember that God can and does work through our weaknesses. In this way, teaching can lead us to a greater reliance on Christ and His strength, and anything in our lives that leads us toward more dependence on His power and greatness is a good thing. Striking that balance between our responsibility and God’s perfection is where our souls can find rest in His sufficiency and His ability to teach and empower us to help others know Him more.

Church Kids and Church Shootings

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I could almost feel my eleven year old’s ears perk up as Chad and I talked in quiet tones about another church shooting, this one just a couple hours down the road from us. Our freckle-faced sixth grader listened without speaking, and I knew that he was picturing in his mind the same scene that I was imagining: our church. Our people. And the sound of gunshots ringing out.

There are no easy answers or simple platitudes to offer your children when their safe places are violated. How do you talk to church kids about the reality that even in God’s house, evil strikes? How do you hand your children hope and reassurance when the truth is sprawled across the internet in the form of live video: even here, where we worship the one true God, we are but vulnerable people who can be laid down by a sinner’s gun?

One thing we can’t do is tell them it will never happen to us. We can’t promise our children that pain or suffering or scary things won’t come their way, even when we are overwhelmingly tempted to do so. We would like to make all kinds of empty assurances to our children, just to erase the worry on their faces and the fear in their little hearts. We want to tell them that we will always protect them. That nothing bad can happen to them when they’re at school or at church or in our presence. We want to lie that there are no bad people out there who will try to harm them, and that sickness and trauma and death are worries for other people, not us.

There’s a reason children are notorious for lying awake at night when they ought to be sleeping, and it’s the same reason that many adults lie awake. This world is an unsure, unstable, and scary place. Kids get that reality from a young age. They may not be thinking about church shooters, but they are sure thinking about dark, shadowy corners in their rooms, bad dreams, strange noises, and the ever-present fear that something terrible is under their bed. All three of my kids had a firm grasp on many things to be afraid of before they were even speaking in complete sentences.  We have to give our kids something more substantial to cling to in a frightening world than hollow promises that they know we can’t keep.

Yet we also can’t tell our children that the great and very good God that we serve will always keep them out of harm’s way. We would be remiss to assure our children that God wouldn’t allow this or that to happen, because they can clearly see that terrible, devastating things happen to people who love the Lord every single day. So, just what do we say to our children when church shootings and brain tumors and car crashes and active shooter drills at school fill their minds with fear and their spirits with dread?

I guess the real truth is that saying words to our kids will only get us so far. They also have to see something in us; something special that looks very different from the rest of the world. They need to see us living out the kind of faith that led an imprisoned Paul to pen these words, through the power of the Holy Spirit: To live is Christ, but to die is gain.

What if instead of trying to convince our kids that bad things aren’t out there, we spent their growing up years showing them through God’s word and through our own lives that no matter what happens, God will see us through it, whether by taking care of us on this earth or taking care of us in Heaven? When we believe in Jesus, we are never outside the keeping of our doting Heavenly Father.

What if we taught our children that there is more to existence than this life? That eternal perspective changes the way things look here on earth? What if we showed our kids that even in a scary world, hope shines bright in the form of Jesus Christ? His victory over death is ours. His victorious resurrection will be ours, too. What if we could say with all conviction to our precious little ones that sin and sadness and shootings and sickness don’t get to have the final word?

We can only do these things if we truly believe them. If we are going to God’s word and reading the truth. If we are steeping ourselves in the full and glorious promises of the only real Promise-keeper. The further we venture from His word, the fuzzier our view of His power and goodness seems. For times like these, for the church shooter days and the monster under the bed nights, for the why did this have to happen conversations, there is only one source of wisdom and truth, and our kids are counting on us to be able to offer the real answers and real promises of our good God. This life is hard. Our kids don’t need temporary relief. They need the eternal reality that belongs to the children of God, an unvarnished truth so good that it leads especially their parents to look them in the face and whisper this certainty with all sincerity: To live is Christ, but to die is gain.

A Weary Mom Rejoices

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Today I walked into a clothing store for teenagers. I was trying to finish my Christmas shopping, and I’m down to the little things now. In true mom fashion, I round out the kids’ Christmas gifts every year with new underwear and socks.  Having shopped in this place before, I knew that I could get a good deal, and as usual I generally ignored all of the other clothing in store, most of which is ridiculous.

But when I got to the bins at the back where moms dig through the sizes to get a good deal on undies for their teenagers, I discovered bin after bin of unmentionables that were plastered with dollar signs, twenty dollar bills, labels like “wild,” “bite me,” “cash money,” and parental warning advisories. Everything about these undergarments screamed I am for sale and I am a product to be consumed.

I came home and found an online warning from a local state trooper who has found that girls younger than my own daughter are being solicited and paid online for pictures of themselves: first just their feet. Then, when the girls realize they really do get paid for the photos, they send more, this time just wearing underwear (for a higher price), then nude, then sex videos. These young girls are being paid $20-$900 for pictures and videos of themselves, and because of a culture that continually reinforces the idea that their bodies are just products to sell, they are falling for these evil schemes that scar them mind, body, and soul.

What are young girls supposed to think when their stores are selling underwear with twenty dollar bills printed across the crotch? How should we, as Christian parents, combat this pornified culture where girls are constantly being sent the message that all that matters is who wants their bodies? How do we teach our boys to fight for purity and for the purity of their sisters in Christ? I am learning as I raise kids in this world that there are no simple answers. The temptation to consume and be consumed is all around.

It’s enough to make Christian parents despair.

But on days like today when I feel a little bit panicked about the state of this world, when I wonder how much further things can go, when I worry that my children will fall for every lie that this culture has to offer them, I (eventually) stop. I turn to that squirmy feeling in the pit of my stomach and I remind it that the Holy Spirit of God is still enough.

We can become so overwhelmed with all the shocking and horrific news that points to all that’s wrong with this world that we forget that God is as fully in control as He ever was. We think we need to scheme and plan and isolate our kids, and we lock them away like little hermits. Or we bury our heads in the sand and pretend like our kids are immune to sin, telling ourselves that the world isn’t what it actually is. And then every once in awhile, like tonight, when I was wondering if we should move to a compound someplace and hide from the evils of this world, the Holy Spirit ministers to me. Wisely, He reminds me that we don’t escape evil by hiding from the world because it lives in all of us. We are all wicked people who are capable of all kinds of atrocities. Even my precious children have hearts bent toward sin. Then He brings comfort. I’m reminded that Scripture teaches that when we know Christ sin no longer has dominion over us. There is no sin that the Holy Spirit can’t handle. There is no devastation or spiritual destruction or emotional pain that is too big for the power of God. This world is no match for the King of Kings.

So, once again I find myself in a familiar spot: remembering that I can’t fix everything. In fact, I can’t fix most things. And it’s in this place that I learn a little bit more about relying on God. Trusting Him with my children is surprisingly difficult sometimes because I want to act and do and work and strive and take over. But then I get completely overwhelmed with this job, which is entirely too big for little old me to take on. And in that golden moment I remember that all I really have to do is sit back and rest in the arms of my good, good God. He is trustworthy when this world is not. He is powerful, and I am oh so weak. He is big enough to rescue my children, and I am not.

All of these truths the Holy Spirit whispers to a tired mama on an ordinary Tuesday. In the glow of the Christmas tree tonight, the Prince of Peace seems more real than ever. A thrill of hope, a weary mom rejoices. Because her God is sufficient. He always has been, and He always will be.

Hospitality is Not Homebound

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Hospitality has been a major buzz word in Christian circles for a few years now. Some excellent books have been written about the importance of rediscovering the lost art of welcoming people into your home. I have attended more than one women’s conference where sessions were geared toward already overloaded and guilt-ridden women like myself, with certain questions posed by women who are obviously passionate about their homes, and about things like hosting themed parties: “Do you often host people in your home?” “If not, why not?” “Did you know that the Bible clearly tells us to open our homes to others?” “Have you heard about what happened with Rosaria Butterfield when someone asked her over for dinner?” Ok, I’m kidding with that last one. But, there has clearly been a push among women’s ministry circles to more carefully consider the idea of hospitality and what it can look like in our own homes.

That’s a good thing. I agree–we should welcome others into our homes when we can. But, I also want to send a clear message to women like me, women who are rarely home, whose kids are in fifteen different activities after school, whose family generally eats at different times in different cars in different cities because that’s just the phase of life that we’re in: hospitality can happen literally anywhere.

After all, what is hospitality? It’s making people feel warm and welcomed and wanted. And I can do that sitting in the stands at my daughter’s basketball practice with other parents. I can do that in my Sunday school class, at school pickup, in the grocery store, and in the fast food drive thru. I can and should offer hospitality everywhere I go, even if I won’t always do it perfectly. Even if I am not offering a meal or a seat on a comfy couch or a nice hot cup of coffee. None of those things matter as much as a simple attitude of warmth and welcome, wherever my day’s responsibilities take me.

So, in the spirit of encouraging my fellow women, here are just a few ways that you are probably already extending hospitality to those around you.

1. You offer hospitality at church.
Chad often jokes about how most men can walk into a Sunday school classroom with one thought: “Where are the donuts?” while most women walk in and are instantly aware of the various emotional and relational issues in the room. As a general rule, women put people at ease by being sensitive to all of the dynamics that are going on in a certain situation, like a Sunday school classroom.

Women decorate rooms in the church and make it a welcoming place. You cook, clean, and serve meals, and you organize events and form groups that help people find their place in the building and in the body.

You are more likely to put young mothers at ease as you welcome their children. You plan lessons that you hope will delight the kids, and you kiss bumps and hand out bandaids and you offer snacks to chubby little outstretched hands. You soothe and rock and pat and play.

Women invite others into the Word of God, in their classes and Bible studies, trying to clearly communicate that this is our common ground, this gospel, this truth, and that no matter where our lives have taken us, here in this place we are all offered peace, grace, and mercy. The gospel is the ultimate offer of welcome and warmth and belonging, and when you attend church faithfully, when you serve and you teach and you study and you come to each Sunday knowing that you are not going to a building, but to live out the truth that you ARE the church, then you, women, are already offering hospitality.

2. You offer hospitality at work.
Some of you go to a workplace every day where you are keenly aware of some of the personal struggles of coworkers. Chances are you spend a good deal of your work day encouraging other people, listening, and offering advice to those who need it. You reach out to people, check on people, and make emotional and intellectual connections with people that make a positive difference in their day. No matter your line of work, you probably spend time every day helping others, nurturing those who need it.

Some of you stay home during the day, serving your own little children. You are doing some of the most difficult and overwhelming hospitality work, creating a daily world where your kids can flourish. Don’t doubt for a moment that this type of offering is not true hospitality. Your job of daily filling your child’s heart and mind with warmth and welcome, making them feel wanted even while you are called to train them in some very frustrating seasons of parenting, is one of the clearest pictures in our world of laying down your life for another.

3. You offer hospitality most everywhere you go. 
Sometimes you are free and can have people over to your house. And sometimes you aren’t. That doesn’t mean that you are out of the hospitality business. Hospitality is not centered only around our homes. The truth is that hospitality is about YOU, not your house or your schedule or your cooking skills. What people want is an openness, a kindness, and a posture that says that you are available and you care, and you can offer that wherever you go. And if you think about it, you probably do, just as a natural overflow of who you were created to be in Christ.

I love to have people over to our house at times. But at other times it’s all I can do to handle the jobs that await me between church responsibilities, work, raising children, keeping clean underwear in people’s drawers, and so on. Yet, it never fails that I feel pressure to be more and do more. The truth is that once I took a step back and examined what all of this work I’m doing is for, I realized it is ALL hospitality work because I am a woman, and that is what most of us are called to do. We are the welcomers, the warm hugs, the planners, the nurturers. It would be a shame if we let the pressure to put hospitality in a tiny box that looks like dinner around a dining table keep us from experiencing the joy in all of the other hospitality ventures that we are already undertaking.

Remember that this faith is not about trying harder. It’s about the gospel changing who we are. Hospitality will be a natural by-product of that change, whether in our houses or outside of them. Ushering people through the doors of our homes is wonderful. True gospel purpose can lie in that very thing. But, it is also all around us, in opportunities that go far beyond our dining tables. Don’t let the good message that hospitality is important blind you to the fact that it is not homebound. You can offer warmth, welcome, and a sense of belonging to anyone, anywhere, anytime. And chances are you are doing so more often than you realize. Take heart, dear women. Hospitality is not merely a well-laid table. It’s a wide circle of opportunity where you can serve right now, right where you are, even if your house is not even close to being ready for company.

Waiting for Kanye to Trip

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Kanye West has spent most of his life making music that glorifies sex, materialism, and Kanye, idolizing himself in ways that have seemed downright shocking to most of civilized society. In a recent interview he called himself “the greatest human artist of all time.” Yet, in listening to Kanye’s new Jesus is King album, and in hearing pastor Adam Tyson’s account of the ways that God appears to be working in Kanye’s heart and mind, we should be cautiously optimistic that Jesus has radically saved Kanye West.

The skepticism that is permeating the online world among Christians is troubling in some ways. Many Christians seem doubtful that God could or would snatch a Kanye West from the pit of sin and death and set him on the solid foundation of Christ. Many seem eager to watch carefully, analyzing every move for evidence that Kanye is not, in fact, regenerate, but just another celebrity who is trying to make a buck. In fact, many Christians seem to be looking forward to seeing him stumble, as if they are hungry for proof that God has not rescued this man, that this is all a hoax, a ploy, or a sinister plot with politics at its heart.

The truth is that we have no way of knowing whether Kanye West is a Christian any more than we can know with certainty that our sweet little old neighbor lady is one. I have no idea what is in his heart or mind or what is going to come of all of this. But I do know that as Christians we should be hopeful. We should be rooting for him. We should be praying for Kanye West and thanking God for the opportunity to do so. Christians, of all people, should be excited about the prospect of this man influencing those in his very large circle for Christ. God doesn’t need Kanye any more than He needs us. Kanye can’t hurt God or the gospel. But, for all we know God had a plan from the foundation of the world to miraculously claim Kanye West as His own child. Are we really so quick to doubt that the creator of the universe would do such a thing?

It pains me to see Christians who are so cynical. I can promise you that if we are looking for displays of sinfulness in Kanye’s life, we won’t be disappointed. He will trip. He will stumble. He will sin in spectacular ways. But none of that necessarily means that this isn’t real. If we held ourselves to the standards that we expect this extremely newly converted, completely culturally brain-washed celebrity to keep, then we would all be running around constantly doubting our own salvation. Why are we so quick to believe that God can turn our wicked hearts, but not his?

Time will tell. I am all for taking a wait-and-see attitude. But, as we wait, let’s look forward to seeing more spiritual fruit. Let’s prayerfully and hopefully hold this man up instead of pessimistically holding out for a crash and burn. If we are more excited about being able to say “I told you so” than in seeing true salvation unfold, then we are sadly out of tune with the Spirit of God.

Brothers, Be Gentle

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Yesterday I listened to men whom I greatly admire engage in banter on stage. It was a word association game. I will say a word, said one, and then the three of you will give a one-word, pithy response to the word. Are you ready? I could practically feel the audience in the room lean forward in anticipation to see what sort of fun this would be.

Beth Moore. He dropped her name lightly into the room, which was already poised to get the joke. Laughter broke out all over.

The first man who was asked to respond is one of my heroes. He and the moderator kidded back and forth for a moment before this great man of God paused, considering his sister in Christ, and responded simply, Go home. 

The reaction in the room was electric. Laughter, hoots and hollers of delight, and applause broke out in unison, and the moderator was obviously thrilled by how this had all turned out, entertaining and truthful and a little bit mean. It wasn’t necessarily designed to be a serious conversation, but this was especially sensational, and he and the crowd seemed to be loving it.

As I listened to all of this happen, my heart sank a little. I wondered at the kind of environment we have created in this opinion-saturated culture, where men of great faith and character and wisdom will sit on a stage and turn their concerns about their sister into a joke.

My brothers, speak the truth. You should. Guide and shepherd within your realm of influence. God has called you to it. Rightly divide the word of truth. We need you to. But when dealing with your sisters in Christ, no matter the circumstance, be gentle. Show the world that they can know us by our love for one another.

As your sisters, we sometimes have a difficult time knowing where our gifts fit into the biblical structure of the church. Like you, we don’t always know what to do with our strong opinions or our not-so-gentle ways. Let us all acknowledge that while God has certainly called women to do good work within our homes, He also calls us to do good work outside of them. “Go home” is an especially difficult pill to swallow in light of how many churches would likely collapse if all of those faithful, godly women who do a huge bulk of the teaching, training, planning, ideating, and plain old working in our churches simply went home.

Now, I know they weren’t speaking about all women. They were speaking about one. One who has faithfully studied and taught God’s word for decades. One who doesn’t always say or tweet exactly the right thing. One who has issues just like the rest of us. But, she is a child of God. She is a joint heir with Christ just like the men on that stage. And that should count for something.

So, in the days to come, as debates continue to rage over what women should and shouldn’t be doing, I pray that we will all cling to the scripture and see it clearly. But, even when there is disagreement, even when we see godly women standing on platforms where they probably shouldn’t, and even when we hear godly men joking in ways that are unbecoming of trusted leaders, I have hope that through the power of the Holy Spirit we will still be able to abide by Paul’s words in Ephesians 4: Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

Want to Tend to Your Pastor’s Heart? Show up.

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Sunday nights are rough on pastors, and Mondays are even worse. Not only does a pastor feel exhausted, but he questions himself. He wonders how Sunday really went. He wonders if his sermon spoke. He sometimes dwells on things that were or weren’t said, and he can very easily wake up Monday morning feeling utterly discouraged, even if everyone else feels that Sunday’s worship and activities were fabulous. Few people understand how quickly a pastor can begin to feel downhearted, even when things are going well at church.

I know almost all church members care for and want to encourage their pastor. But I don’t know how many realize that the number one way to tend to their pastor’s heart is just getting up on Sunday mornings and going to church. In truth, this is the most basic and easy thing that we are called to do as Christians, and when we don’t do it, what is a pastor supposed to think about the spiritual condition of his congregation? I guarantee that he will leave the church building feeling discouraged and troubled when he sees empty seats where his sheep should be. Your pastor doesn’t just care about the number of people who are in the building. He cares if you are in your place. He thinks about your spiritual life, about your worldview, about the ways that you spiritually steward your family. When you fail to prioritize church attendance, your pastor has good reason to be concerned that you are struggling spiritually. Nothing encourages him more on a Sunday morning than seeing that you are being obedient to the Lord’s command to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. When you are faithful in this, you not only please God, you enhearten and strengthen your pastor.

Dear Lonely High School Student: Your People are Out There

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I remember walking into my economics class my senior year in high school, wondering how in world it was possible that I had no one to sit with. I had, after all, grown up in this small town and had known most of these kids since kindergarten, yet not a soul in the room was watching the door expectantly, waiting for me.

I made it through a year of senior dinners and parties, field trips and lasts that I celebrated with no one. By the time graduation rolled around, I was so happy to be released from an embarrassingly solitary year of being thrown together at every turn with people who had each other but didn’t seem to want me.

I don’t blame my classmates. Chances are it was my own Pharisaical attitudes that had landed me in this lonely spot. I was extremely zealous for the Lord and was terribly serious about not stepping one toe out of line. I was known as a goody two-shoes, and I wore that label like a badge of righteousness. I was proud and probably much too arrogant. I doubt I was all that fun to be around. But by God’s grace, despite my pride and my overblown ideas of how much God “needed” me, I left high school with my devotion to the Lord in tact, and with a sense that my life was finally beginning.

A few months later my parents dropped me off at the small Baptist college where I would grow and thrive and have fun, where I would make the most precious friends, and where I would meet the only love of my life. It turned out that there were lots and lots of people like me. There were kids out there who cared about the things of God, whose lives were built on the foundation of His mercy and goodness. I had spent my final year of high school grieving the fact that I was misunderstood and isolated. Then God poured out His blessings in ways that I couldn’t even have imagined, in the form of Christian kids who were serious about their faith, who had far outgrown me in righteousness and sincerity and biblical knowledge.

And now here I am, twenty years later, and my first-born is a few weeks into her high school career. She, too, is learning about the sometimes cost of following Jesus. About the lack of people who understand you. She finished an assignment for her English class last week, a video project where she was asked to choose a poem to read and then discuss in relation to her own life and experience. She chose “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.

In it, Frost famously describes two paths that he came across in the woods one day, confessing that he chose to take the one that has been less traveled by, “and that has made all the difference.” For Adelade, the correlation seems obvious. She is on the narrow path, the path that leads to life. It, too, is the road less traveled. In the video she sits in front of a white wall in her grey over-sized New York sweatshirt, and says of this way of life, “Sometimes it means you don’t have many friends because you don’t want to do things that dishonor God.” This, coming from a girl who walked into her high school on the first day of school knowing that no one would be looking for her. It’s a hard place to be. Yet, she goes on to talk about the peace and joy that comes from following Christ.

I keep telling her that her people are out there. And they are. They may even be in the halls of her high school right now, people that the Lord is moving and changing and molding even as He continues to move and change and mold Adelade and me. I know He is working because He always is.

So, you, lonely high school student, follow Jesus and keep living according to His word. Be radical if you need to. But don’t ever think that you are alone, because your people are most definitely out there.

On See You at the Pole day this past week, youth ministry expert Dr. Richard Ross posted this idea on Facebook:

“One student praying—may feel weak. But swept up in a worldwide student prayer movement—strong.
One student living in sexual holiness alone—weak. Part of a worldwide movement—strong.
But students cannot be drawn into movements their leaders don’t mention.”

High schooler, consider this your notification: there are students all over this world who are fully dedicated to loving Jesus through obedience. You aren’t alone, even though you may feel like it. Your people are out there, and when you find them, get ready for some of the greatest blessings that God gives. High school is so much shorter than it feels. Just keep your eyes on Jesus and be patient, always remembering that the road less traveled leads to true fulfillment.

The Best Advice for a Pastor’s Wife

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A couple of weeks ago I started feeling a little bit discouraged. A combination of factors related to our church were piling on in an unusually burdensome way, and I just felt like there was a huge weight on my shoulders. My husband Chad is pastor, a calling in both of our lives that we are passionately committed to. We are sounding boards and burden-bearers for many in our community, and Chad says that he has learned to embrace the melancholy that sometimes comes with being a spiritual shepherd, a counselor and secret-keeper. At times it is a weary load that a pastor, and often his wife, carries. It can be difficult to deal with people in all of their human glory, their faults and failures and their ever-pressing expectations.

A few days ago we drove out of town to attend a funeral, and afterward we stood and talked with the hospice chaplain. He, too, has pastored churches, and as we talked he turned to focus on me. He told me that during his years of shepherding a church someone offered his wife a wonderful piece of advice.

Now, I often read or hear advice for pastors’ wives. Generally it is something with a bit of a worldly spin on it, something like,  Tell that church that they hired your husband, not you or Your one job is to love your husband and take care of him–the church shouldn’t expect more from you than that. I braced myself for yet another mediocre idea of what a pastor’s wife is meant to be. But he surprised me.

He said, “Just love the people.”

At those words I felt the weight in my spirit shift. The burden didn’t disappear–the heaviness that comes with being intimately intertwined in the lives of others. The sense of melancholy that Chad talks about was still present. But in that moment I remembered that I am not a pack mule struggling to shoulder everyone’s problems. This calling is so much more than that. It’s an opportunity to love sacrificially (though imperfectly) and, even more amazingly, to receive sacrificial love in return from the (imperfect) people who make up our church family.  I was reminded that I am a follower of Christ first and a pastor’s wife second. Jesus told us all to love the Lord and love our neighbors, and I certainly shouldn’t expect to do anything less than that as I minister alongside my husband.

Sometimes loving others looks like absorbing wounds inflicted by the very people you are called to love. Sometimes it looks like mourning in unison. Sometimes it looks like laughing, eating good church food, watching our kids play together, marveling at the many ways God is working in the lives all around us.

I stood and nodded at the chaplain and wondered if my heaviness of heart feels extra burdensome because I have tried to complicate this calling with too much problem-solving, too much time spent trying to figure things out that have no real solutions. I think I forgot that loving people, although not always easy, is fairly simple.

This heavy load that Chad and I sometimes bear is not ours alone. Ultimately, it belongs to Christ, and He is more than strong enough to carry it. So when I feel myself starting to stoop under the weight of it all, I pray that I will remember the advice that gave me pause on an especially wearisome day, that I will lay these burdens at the foot of the cross and open my arms wide to those whom God has given us.

The Blessing of Heaven as a Near Reality

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Their ages: 94 and 84. They have been friends, Sunday school members, and sisters in the faith for years. And now they were saying goodbye.

I stood aside with my children close and watched as these two dear women embraced. It was a happy day–a going away lunch as one sweet widow packed up her long life to move in with her daughter in another state. Yet, as they bent their white-topped heads together in a final hug, I could feel an urgency here that isn’t necessarily present when younger friends part ways. At their ages, these women seemed to have a sense that they may never see each other again on this side of eternity.

Through tears, the younger of the two smiled: “We’ll meet again in Heaven.” They squeezed each others’ hands knowingly.

Once a week I visit this precious Heaven-dreamer. Eternity feels so near to her that she can spend most of our time together describing to me in detail what it may be like. She devotes hours of her day to dwelling on her eternal future, almost as if she can reach out and touch it.

For her, Heaven is a near reality. It is close, and she is looking forward to experiencing it at last. She lives a full life and serves the Lord in all kinds of ways. But one blessing of old age is her growing connection to the future that she knows is coming. It is the essence of hope, this sure belief in a painless world of sweet reunions and Christ in His full glory. It is what can bring a genuine smile to an aged face. And it is a motivator to run this race well, even through the pains of all kinds, and finish strong. Perhaps there is no greater hope in the Christian faith than the hope of one who recognizes that she is running her final miles toward glory.

The two friends stepped back with smiles and began to gather up their belongings. It was time to go home. I glanced at Chad across the room and saw that his eyes, too, were filled with tears. Goodbyes that are backed by the promise of Heaven are beautiful. Our eyes met for a second and through our tears we smiled a little ruefully. Goodbyes are inevitable. One day even we will part ways, one remaining to finish the race while the other moves into a glorious forever.

The lunch was over. The goodbyes were done. We washed dishes and wiped tables and gathered up our children like one grabs for seashells in the surf.  Heaven usually seems like a distant future, but in this moment, standing in the church fellowship hall on an August Sunday, somehow it seemed a little closer. A little clearer. The hope of it. The confidence in whatever God has in store. Maybe this is the beginning of living with true joy, remembering that Heaven is a nearer reality than we think.

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