“I don’t want to be a pastor’s wife anymore.” This is how I framed my discontent with the church about 15 years ago. I said this to my husband who at the time was a United Methodist Pastor. I added, “ I want to be your wife, I just don’t want to be a pastor’s wife.” I am sure this came as a shock to my sweet husband who at the time had a hard time separating himself from his pastoral role. But he gave me room to explore my doubts and frustrations. At first I stopped walking down the aisle after morning worship. A small thing maybe, but at this point I had walked down the aisle every Sunday for 15 years. It was a start.
I had become so weary of the role. It felt like church members had no other use for me than to just be there and smile. I would sometimes quote the penguins from the movie Madagascar, “just smile and wave boys, smile and wave.” Years later a dear sweet saint of the church came up to me after service and said, “you should walk out with your husband so we can all see you.” I smiled at her and said, “Oh, I don’t do that.” It always felt like church members would rather to shake my hand after worship and spend maybe 10 seconds with me instead of inviting me for coffee and really getting to know me.
My experience as a pastor’s wife for 33 years taught me one thing. I only mattered for what I could do for them. The relationships were so often one sided. I reached out to them and cared for them without the reciprocation of a real relationship. I would be their speaker for retreats, I would bring muffins for fellowship hour, I would teach Sunday school classes and help with Vacation Bible School. In fact one church member told me with a smile, “I guess when you said I do, you were saying I do to VBS for life.” And that was the last time I helped with VBS.
I became a pastor’s wife at the age of 20. We served a sweet three point charge in Southern Ohio while my husband finished his M.Div at Asbury Theological Seminary. I was at the time very involved in what used to be called the Minister’s Wives Fellowship and was later changed to Clergy Spouses, before fizzling out all together. It helped to be with other pastor’s wives. It helped me to not feel so isolated. I can remember being at a meeting early on and hearing one older spouse (probably my age now) and thinking how bitter she was. I never wanted to be that bitter old Clergy spouse but here I am.
Years of hearing people complain about your husband. Watching him suffer after the cruel treatment inflicted by God’s people became too much for me. I would see first hand the energy, time and caring he put in. I had started calling the church “The Other Woman.” And to see the other woman treat my husband with such ill care was sometimes more than I could bare. I saw his heart, I knew he was good and kind and sincere. It broke my heart over and over again and left me with lots of resentment.
If I was to offer any advice to my fellow clergy spouses out there I would say, first of all be yourself. Have a life outside the church, good friends you can depend on and get a good counselor to help you walk though the hurts that will come. The Church may be the bride of Christ, but the church is made up of humans and together they are not always very Christ-like. Which for me is the hope I cling to. The hope that Jesus is more the person I read about in Scripture and less what my church experience has shown me.
My husband is retired and now for the first time since I was 20 years old I am not a pastor’s wife. I am free to be me and I am open to …………….well, I am open.