Early in my marriage, I realized my pace was having an adverse impact on my wife. But I was a pastor! My feet hit the floor running. I wanted to help people. I wanted to meet their expectations.
The church soon doubled in size and implemented a second worship service. Administering a church program, calling on new people, struggling to stay accessible to meet people's needs stuck me in "frantic." But after fifteen years of this, my wife began to lose hope. Joy was gone. Resentment was building. My promises to do better never lasted. A cool distance developed between us.
Eventually we ended up seeing a counselor, and agreed to live by some principles that restructured my time and gave our marriage new life.
Admit I have a problem
I realized that I, not my wife, was the problem. Although I took some regular time off, I was dragging her through life, allowing everyone else to control my schedule.
My family background taught me that hard work in academics and athletics yielded the ego-building ...1