Friday, May 15, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
I can see her in my mind. The perfect pastor’s wife. She’s about five foot four, petite, with perfectly styled blond hair and a sweet smile.
She looks nothing like me.
But when I married my husband last year and he became the pastor of a little church in our small southern town, I became a pastors wife.
I do believe that was the moment when the world stopped spinning normally on its axis.
I love being a pastor’s wife. I also love being me. Sometimes it seems like the two won’t fit together, and a struggle ensues inside of me. I fight with expectations—my own are usually the worst—and strive to live life in a way that pleases God and makes everyone other individual on the planet happy as well.
I know I’m not the only one who does this. Pastors wife or not, all of us have felt expectations. There are articles online, in women’s magazines, in the newspaper, everywhere we’re seeing the struggle of women to accomplish the most incredible task—being herself. It seems like something that sounds so easy should be, well, easy. Why isn’t it, do you think?
This blog is about my life as more than a stereotype. It's about having the courage to be espresso in a latte world.
I know I'm not the only one on this journey--so join me. I'd love to hear your stories, too.