My Strange Life as a Pastor's Wife

"She was a Plain Jane minister's wife type—you know what I mean."

That was how one of our parishioners described a visitor they'd had in church while my husband and I were away on vacation. Did I know what she meant? Did I want to know? After all, I am a minister's wife. I was hesitant to ask.

"Some ministers' wives are good at it, some aren't."

This remark came from a friend and mother-to-be. She was confined to home near the end of her pregnancy, and I brought her a gift, thinking it might cheer her up. Her offhand comment caught me off guard. Did what I see as a simple act of friendship—bringing a baby gift to lift a friend's spirit—bolster my credentials as a pastor's wife? Or maybe she didn't appreciate my visit at all and meant that I wasn't "good at it"—this pastor's wife thing, I mean.

"How did the two of you ever get together? I mean you're so different."

I was helping set up tables for the annual church bazaar and this question hit me out of the blue. It wasn't asked with the intent of getting to know me better, or inquiring about my life's story. It was more of a "That's weird that he's married to you" kind of statement. I found myself trying to defend my husband's and my compatibility, realizing our marriage was under scrutiny by this woman who really didn't know either of us on a personal level.

What is a "pastor's wife" anyway? Is it a profession? Certainly more than a few parishioners see it that way. And if my experiences are any indication, there are certain physical and personality characteristics in a pastor's spouse that people in the pew consider desirable, if not essential.

An unsought role

I've known at least three women in my life who told me they'd "always wanted to be a pastor's wife." Not me! When I was young, I swore I would never marry a minister. I didn't see myself as having the qualities I felt were necessary in a minister's wife. I had no musical ability—didn't sing in the choir or play the piano. I was quiet and introverted, but when I spoke I was blunt and direct. And I wasn't the submissive type. I figured God had given me a brain and I was going to use it, and that all of Scripture was as much for me as for any man.

I've known at least three women in my life who told me they'd "always wanted to be a pastor's wife." Not me!

When I entered seminary in the fall of 1983, I went with my guard up. I would not marry a minister. But before the end of my first semester at Gordon-Conwell, I fell in love with a fellow student who was studying for the ministry. And he was definitely called to be a pastor. It didn't take me long to realize that God had brought the two of us together. Therefore I had no choice but to conclude that God was indeed calling me to be a pastor's wife. Well, not to be a pastor's wife—but to be this pastor's wife, the wife of Dale Edwards. And Dale Edwards is a pastor.

Early on, I learned the hard way that a pastor's spouse is neither clergy nor laity. The small church my husband pastored while we were in seminary was trying to decide which color to paint the sanctuary. Like any good Baptist church, the matter was brought to a congregational vote. And like any good Baptist, I sat poised to raise my hand when my preferred color came up. Just as I got ready to put my arm in the air, my husband placed his hand on mine. He leaned over and whispered, "We're not voting on this." I acquiesced but brought the matter up on the ride home. Dale reasoned that if I voted it would appear that I was expressing the opinion of my pastor-husband. And my pastor-husband correctly surmised that the color of the sanctuary was not an issue important enough to take a side on in a congregational vote.

Over the years I saw the wisdom in this approach, when at a women's meeting or Christian Education meeting I would express an opinion only to see the discussion shut down. I tended to underestimate the weight my words held, even when I thought I was just stating my personal opinion along with everyone else.

I also learned being a pastor's wife requires more flexibility than I ever imagined. Dale and I joke that our life is always on flex time. You can never predict when someone is going to need to see their pastor—life's stresses and tragedies don't follow a regular timetable. Dinners get delayed or cancelled altogether. Sleep gets interrupted. Death stops everything—and not just for the person who stopped breathing. Vacations get put on hold, sporting events get missed.

Early on, I learned the hard way that a pastor's spouse is neither clergy nor laity.

A pastor's wife has to be a strong person. I won't get into the whole complementarian / egalitarian debate here. I've come to see that as long as couples are being kind to one another, putting the needs of the other before their own, and seeking to live their lives in obedience to Christ, the debate becomes less important. But a pastor's wife needs to be strong, because it's no easy task to be a "helpmeet" for a pastor. It's often my job to take care of this person who pours out his life taking care of others. I have to look out for him because no one in the congregation will—that's not their job. The sheep cannot be expected to take care of their shepherd, however well-intentioned they might be. I'm often serve as gatekeeper and even Sabbath-keeper. Sometimes it's better for my husband's ministry if I'm the one to say "no" rather than put him in that position. I'm sure people have said things like, "Laurie doesn't let Dale answer the phone on Monday's. She makes him take the day off." And that's okay by me—it's true!

Unexpected blessing

As a pastor's spouse, you are being watched. Like it or not. And your marriage is being watched. And your children are being watched. The key is to keep on living your life, not like the church or the community is watching, but like God is watching you. Because ultimately he is the one who matters most. We worked hard to make sure our kids were free to be kids. They weren't expected to behave a certain way because their father was the pastor, but we made it clear that following Christ involved living lives of obedience to him.

When we allowed our daughter to wear her big brother's oversized basketball shorts on Sunday morning, she was asked by parishioners if her parents let her dress that way to church. She looked at them and proudly answered "Yes!" We learned to choose our battles; we'd rather have our kids in church of their own volition than get in arguments about the clothes they wore there. Did my kids sometimes raise some eyebrows? I'm sure they did, but they each grew up to be their own person.

As a pastor's spouse, you are being watched. Like it or not.

Though I wasn't enthusiastic about the role initially, being a pastor's wife has been a source of amazing blessing. And I have come to see that God has gifted me for ministry in ways I couldn't see before.

Oddly enough, none of the three women I know who always wanted to be pastor's wives ever became one. And a couple of friends of mine who I felt were wonderful pastors' wives ended up hating it, and were relieved when their husbands left the ministry. And here I sit, 30 years later, thinking I never could have imagined a better life than I have.

God calls us all to serve him with our whole hearts wherever he puts us. As it should be in the life of every other Christian, pastors' wives are called to a life of love, service, and obedience. I am responsible to live out my faith wherever I am today, trusting and honoring God.

Am I a "Plain Jane minister's wife" type? Possibly. Am I good at it? I have no clue, but I hope so. Would I have my life any other way? Never!

Laurie is a writer and substitute teacher. She is also the wife of Dale Edwards, who recently stepped down as pastor of First Baptist church of Lebanon, New Hampshire, and now serves as executive minister of American Baptist Churches for Vermont and New Hampshire.