Confessions of a Pastor's Wife

I've finally figured out what's wrong with me.  (I have a feeling 2014 will be a very productive year...)

I'm simply afraid of being human.  I'm terrified of my own skin, of the thoughts that loom inside my head, of the feelings that shoot through my veins with no warning, of the words I'm capable of saying, and the promises I'm capable of breaking.  I'm overwhelmed at the thought of letting someone down, of having people over for dinner and not having them happy 100% of the time, of forgetting to do something at work, of not recognizing a social need in a public area and leaving it un-addressed, of not singing perfect harmonies on the worship team.

From birth until 22 I've been weird.  Well, birth until now, but I've gotten a little better at hiding it unless you're close to me.  The funny thing is though is that for those 22 years I knew it, but didn't care.  At the age of 13 I was smack in the middle of my thriving duct-tap making career and I wore overalls.  Let's face it, I wasn't exactly your prime popular material.  But I had friends (or angels in disguise??), a healthy relationship with my parents, and a growing love for God.  I by no means was perfect, but didn't seem to be affected by that realization. It never crossed my mind that I could even possibly be perfect.

What happened around the age of 22 I'll never know (unless someone's offering free therapy?) but it's like everything I had been taking in for my entire life started affecting me.  The thoughts and opinions of others were top priority, and I was slowly catering to everyone else's needs and wants.  It's as though as I hit my early twenties puberty hit, and I just felt awkward.

Now I'm 27, happily married, and a pastor's wife in Point Pleasant, NJ.  The stress heightens to new levels... not only do I belong to a new church where there are new relationships to be formed, but there are still old friendships to be maintained, new expectations to be met, and the closest Starbucks is 15 minutes away.  I literally (yes, literally) think at times I might explode. I was supposed to move far far away to Africa where it was easy to not fit in; not Point Pleasant where it seems like a natural fit.

We are currently on the last day of our vacation after being gone a week at a lake house by ourselves.  It has been the best week ever... I've been able to breathe, think, and not be stressed.  But the sad part is that I'm actually scared to go home.  I legitimately feel nervous about being around humans again.  Some might say I need medication, and part of me wants it too.

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed, and You won't start now"*

But ya see, I think I figured out what happened at the age of 22:  I became an adult, and everything started to depend on me.  The opinions of others towards me was my burden to bear.  The faith I had in Christ and how I lived it out depended on me.  And while those things are true, I never took into account that at some point, I will fail.  I just figured after 22 years of living I had a good handle on it.  And so now, being the great pastor's wife I am, I start to doubt my sincerity as a Christian.  The battle isn't a new one that I've fought, but it seems to get harder every time.  Doubt has always been my "kryptonite" (because I'm superwoman.  duh.) 

We're all in a battle, but the uniqueness of it lies in this:  We are in constant training for the very battle in which we fight.  God has this way of using us where we're at to fight, but to also train us for what's coming.  Look, at 22 I thought I was ready for battle.  All the opinions I'd heard, sermons I'd soaked up, and stories I'd read created this person in me... this "warrior" if you will.  But little did I realize that God wasn't finished.  He wasn't expecting this perfect follower to lead the masses.  He simply just wanted me to stay in the fight, use what I knew, and grow to fight differently as I learned more.  Everyone else is doing the same thing.  

People change, people make mistakes, and they grow.  We even make mistakes while we try to fix them... it's just all part of the battle.  

So what's my confession?  Well, quite frankly I never wanted to be a pastor's wife.  I thought it would be boring, confining, and squelching.  Little did I know that God could place a weirdo like me in one of the most loving and gracious communities I'd ever come to know.  And while it's overwhelming, I'm so grateful God doesn't always give us what we want.  I'm so grateful He continues to teach me as I work through my doubt of myself and my unrealistic doubt of His promises to me,  

 Because 

                  "Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed, and You won't start now"*

*song by Hillsong United, "Oceans"

"It's Not Personal, It's Life"

This one's a quickie, but hit me like a ton of bricks.

Today Noah and I were talking about a situation that I'm struggling with.  You see, I have this problem that if there's a glitch in life I automatically think it's this ultimate test.  And, if I don't pass, I'll never get to see the other side.  I'm fairly certain I'm not the only one out there like this, but if I am, I'm expecting 2,000 comments following this post on how to fix this. 

After the venting and tears finally subsided, Noah responds as such:

"Did you ever think that it's not about you? {ha. thanks babe} 

That it's nothing personal, it's just life?"   

I was offended for a second...or seconds.... because I think sometimes trial feels better when it IS personal.  When you know God is up there looking down on you and watching until you get it right.  It's like the light at the end of the tunnel, and when you get there then you know you'll be rewarded.  But to think that this "problem" I'm going through may just be a part of life in general?  Well, gee.  That sucks.  That means that no matter how hard I try, I won't know if I'm any closer to my end goal.  But then I'm reminded of this hymn:

My goal is God Himself, not joy, nor peace, 

Nor even blessing, but Himself, my God;

'Tis His to lead me there- not mine- but His, 

At any cost, dear Lord, by any road

I've been telling myself all day "At some point my words must be tested by my actions", and all day I've been feeling stressed.  Trying to convince myself to have a happy heart 100%  of the time.  But last time I checked, Jesus isn't asking us to always be happy.  He does, however, ask us to trust him, and THAT I do.  Because at the end of the day, my goal isn't this goal I have in my head.  My goal is Christ Himself. 

...Then I Got Married. (Don't worry. This isn't a mushy love blog)

I remember when I was learning how to be disciplined with my money I came to the realization that I thought in order to appreciate something I liked I had to own it.  I wanted others to see that I appreciated good things.  In other words, possession = the highest form of appreciation and good taste. 

I think that transferred into real life and people.  I see people I admire, respect, and like.  I want to be like them.  But much like adding lots of material things into my life makes me broke, so did adding lots of personalities to myself makes me tired.  Constantly thinking how I wanted to be portrayed to others left my brain fried and my insides screaming insecurity.  

Then I got married.  

Planning weddings has changed a lot over the years.  "Out of the box" weddings used to be unacceptable, whereas now they're expected.  DIY used to be "eh" and affordable, but now viewed as beautiful and sometimes more expensive (plus more work).  Weddings have become a little girl's dream turned into a big girl's Pinterest contest.  It's chaos (at least in my world). I'm so glad Noah and I took 4 months to plan our wedding.  I needed the 4 months to be somewhat organized (let's be honest... even if I had 2 YEARS I'd never be organized).  But the shortness of time didn't allow for a ton of extras.  I continually reminded myself that the day was about marrying the man God gave me as my better half, not to win a Pinterest award. 

The wedding came and went and I thought it was the best day ever.  That was until I realized that the foggy & damp weather stripped all the curl and hard work out of my hair that my amazing friend Karol styled.  (I never once looked in a mirror on my wedding day).  And until I let myself go on Pinterest after the wedding and saw all the cute ideas I could've done. For a few weeks, nay, months, I had to not think about the wedding because of what it was doing to my emotions.  I think riDICulous best describes this scenario, but I couldn't help it.  Then I had to make a photobook of the wedding for my mom for Christmas.  I was forced to look at hundreds of pictures of me with straight hair (which is pretty obvious by now that it's my biggest vanity) and layouts of a gazebo in which I could have had pom poms.  The amount of conviction I felt over this pride in my heart was overwhelming.  But as I sat there looking at those pictures, I realized something else (something I really already knew): I was so unbelievably happy in all the pictures.  And you can't fake that.  

Just for the record, this post isn't about anti-pinterest or anti-DIY weddings.  It isn't about if you hate what the weather does to your hair on your wedding day then you'll have a great day.  

What it IS about is this: 

The decision that I made on that day was what it was all about: marrying Noah.  All the extra details were, well just that- extra details.  The extra clothes that I buy to show other people what good taste I have is extra.... but the decisions I make every day about loving God and people are what really matter.  The extras aren't necessarily bad, but when they get in the way of making good, healthy decisions and enjoying those decisions, then I think they become bad.  

This lesson has transferred into SO many areas of my life.  When I find myself comparing what I don't have among others, I simply remind myself that WHO I am is exactly who I need to be right now.  Why? Because God doesn't make mistakes.  WE do.  We fill our lives with expectations and promises to others of who can be.  Don't get me wrong... none of us are perfect.  I will never stop trying to better the bad things about myself and learning from others that I respect and admire.  But I will stop trying to look like them.  How you and I display kindness will look different, because we are different people.  And that's GOOD!  My wedding will look different than so-and-so's because we're different... yay! 

One time I told my dad I was surprised by the kind of car he drove because it wasn't "him".  While I don't remember the exact wording, I will never forget the look on his face as he responded with something along these lines:

 "The day I let a car define who I am will be the day that I need to do some serious re-thinking about my life".  

Something I've started telling myself when I'm in a store and I'm being tempted to buy something is: "This will not change my life or the world.  I don't need it".  And as silly and dramatic as it is, that reminder that this article of clothing or accessory that I can't afford is really to impress someone else is enough for me.  Why? Because I've realized that I can better love people when I'm not so busy trying to be other people.  

Appreciate life.  Appreciate what others have.  But more importantly, appreciate the body, heart, and life God has given YOU.  Don't let things define you.  It's an age old lesson, but still just as true.  It's a continual battle everyday as I remind myself that I am who and where I am for a reason, and it doesn't matter what anyone else has or does.  Appreciate what's around you, but don't always feel the need to put it on.  Constantly try to improve the bads about you, but never cease to rely on His grace and intentionality in making you who you are.   

  

Milk and a 1040 form, please?

There is nothing worse than needing something.

Well, there's nothing worse than needing something you can't get yourself.

A lot of times the kids will ask me for something (ie, a glass of milk) and I'll say "Yeah, just wait a second" because I'm in the middle of helping another one. Typically, I forget about the milk only to reminded by a not so gentle tug on the shirt and long, drawn out whine of "Meeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll. Can I pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease have some milk?" In the midst of the chaos it's easy to get annoyed until I remember that unless I get this for them, they will not have it. And if they try, they will probably make a mess or hurt themselves. Both are fixable things, but never the less just better if I get it.

There are a lot of things in life that we grow out needing help with. Getting a glass of milk, for example. Hopefully, at some point, you are completely capable of doing that yourself. (hopefully).

But then there are other things, like figuring out my taxes, that I'll ALWAYS need help with. Maybe this is a personal example ... :)

In all seriousness, though, there are just certain battles in life that will never go away. One being this:

I will always need Jesus.

Never before has this been so obvious as of late. And, to be honest, it's kind of frustrating. It's crippling to know I need Him to save me, but I guess that's the point. What's the point in having a savior if you don't need saving? It's frustrating too because no other relationship that I've known or currently have is like the one I have with Him. It's genuinely a struggle to even type what I'm about to say next because I think it's still hard for me to accept...but that doesn't make it any less true:
No matter how much I screw up, He still loves me. He still forgives me. He still wants me.

It hurts to know this. It hurts to know that I abuse Him. I want Him to throw me away to give me what I deserve... But He doesn't. He doesn't give us what we deserve. He may let us deal with consequences to decisions that we've made, but even in that His grace helps us through it. I want Him to tell me "enough is enough, Mel. You've sinned one too many times". But He doesn't....

We will never be able to do this thing called "life" on our own. Ever. And while all of my body fights my soul to try and convince it that it can, my soul is strengthened by the One who has it.

I need Him. You need Him. I don't know how people live without Jesus... there's no point. Without His help I'm worthless. And we don't grow out of needing Him. The more I try to do it on my own, the more I spill and the more I hurt myself...and others. You'd think that after 25 years of knowing Jesus I'd know this inside and out, but, well, apparently I don't.

It takes a large blow to the pride to know I can't save myself. And typing that out makes me realize how utterly ridiculous it is to think that I can. No more ridiculous, though, than a 2 yr old trying to do their taxes.

Chutes & Ladders

I absolutely hate the game Chutes and Ladders. It's annoying, ridiculous, and the worst way to teach a 3 year old patience. Unfortunately, the kids I sit for love it, and think it's hilarious that I get mad.

The other day I was cleaning up a few toys with the youngest 2 of the 4 kids I watch. The youngest (Nicholas) is 18 mo; the other (Mark) is almost 4. The scenario went something like this:

Me: Nicholas, let's put the blocks away please.
N starts putting the blocks in the wrong tub
Mark: Mel! Nicholas is putting them in the wrong box!
Me: It's ok Mark... we just need to teach Nicholas how to clean up first. We can move the blocks to the right box when he's not looking.

I love working with children. I love their quirks, and how they are constantly learning and discovering the world around them. I love their laughs and their "tired eyes". I also love how God weaves these visual pictures of his character through their lives.

I often suffer from self-inflicted guilt trips that if I don't make the right decisions or treat people with a genuine and perfect love, everything will fall apart. Aside from that being a ridiculous thought, it's also an incredibly conceited and prideful idea. The funny thing, though, is that I never thought about it as a haughty thing... which just goes to show that by nature we are prideful. Different topic though.

The point of all of this is to say something very simple: God's big enough to handle my best efforts. This goes into so many details of life- my job, my aspirations, my friendships, my worship, my prayers, my thoughts, my actions, and much more. It's often quoted that God will not give you more than you can handle. That is often piggybacked with a witty comeback of "well, God must think I can handle a lot". No, not really. Again, it spins it back on us...that we're the ones that can handle it. I know this off-hand comment is meant to make light of a situation, but it often follows that when we say something enough, we tend to believe it.

I just finished reading an article on Relevant's website entitled "5 Keys for Making Big Life Decisions" (written by Adam & Christine Jeske), and this one sentence stuck out to me over everything else:

"Let’s knock out the basics first: God knows you, loves you a lot and wants to lead you."

I'm absolutely TERRIFIED of making the wrong decisions. But as I watched the interaction between these 2 young brothers, I realized that I don't trust God. Maybe it's not an intentional distrust, but it's still there. I don't trust Him to handle my mistakes; my best efforts.

As I learn how to really love people, how to not judge people, how to encourage a friend, how to make life decisions, how to be a responsible adult, etc, I need to trust that God is big enough to fix my mistakes. Now, this isn't to excuse the things that I do understand: If Mark (4) were to put the blocks away in a completely wrong box, I'd say: Mark, you know better. Please put them back where they belong. (you can see where I'm going with this.)

The article ends with this, and I can't help but post it:

St. Augustine put it simply: “Love God and do as you please.” Make your decisions with God-given sense, with an honest goal to pursue Him and “commit to the Lord whatever you do and your plans will succeed” (Proverbs 16:3). God’s in the business of redeeming even our worst choices, and every highway has off-ramps to other choices.

I'm realizing life is a little bit like Chutes and Ladders. Fortunately I like my life better than the board game... but the idea is that we roll the dice, make decisions, and roll with the punches. As the article suggests, there are decision-making times and waiting times. But no matter where we are, if we feel like we are slipping down the ladder, or trying our best to put blocks back where they belong, God loves us. He is on our side, and as long as we are wanting to love Him, I don't believe that any mistake will keep us from Him.

Actually, He promises it won't (Rom 8.37-39).
He's big enough.

running for my life

(fair warning: this is a semi-scattered blog. hang in there.)

I was talking to my sister the other morning and told her how I've been noticing lately that I'm mortal (typing that out makes me realize the ridiculousness of that statement). She responded with: "Good! Now you won't want to jump out of planes and do stuff like that"
To which I quickly said "No, no... I'm just more aware of what I'm doing."

And it hit me.

I feel as though the last 25 years of my life I've been meandering through this walk of following Jesus, and not really understanding what it means. I think we forget how mortal our souls are. Let me change that thought: I never knew my soul was mortal.

It's a different kind of morality, though. Not the sort of morality one thinks of when someone dies. But we can indeed let our souls die.

So, over the last year and a half I've started running. No, not from anything. I get Runners World magazine in the mail once a month and I like to try on sneakers that I think will help my performance. It's also an excuse to buy more clothes... special "running clothes" (yes, marketing and clever advertising really does work). If you've known me for a little while, though, you'll know running isn't my forte. My friends in college actually used to ask me to run when they wanted a good laugh... apparently I run funny. Which explains some of the reasons why I've never run before.
Needless to say I got over my fear of looking stupid, and began realizing all the other people that run funny.... yet still run. So I guess maybe I didn't get over my personal fear, but realized it wasn't such a big deal after all. Into Sports Authority I went, bought some Saucony's, and hit the ground running. Now here it is, many months later, and I'm signed up for a half-marathon.
I've never regretted anything so much in my life. All of the sudden running for fun just became training so I don't die... and I think I've run 4 times since signing up a month ago.

I've wanted to jump out of a plane for years now, but have never even given a second thought to running a marathon... or even a half marathon. Do you know why I did it though? Because it was free. I got a coupon via email that said if I'm one of the first 20 people to sign up, I get to run 13.1 miles for free (because completely normal people pay $85 to do this). Well, I just can't say no to a bargain. So now, instead of "falling with style" out of the sky, I'm "running with not so much style" on the ground.

A long time ago I realized that this world is kind of pointless on its own. If you take everything at face-value, it's not worth much. We've just decided they are... and I can't live like that. I can't live in that game... and I'm glad I don't have to. I was introduced to the Truth that there really is more than meets the eye, and thus my relationship with Jesus Christ began.

A lot of people begin a relationship with Jesus. It's free for everybody, so that's usually a cool incentive. And it gets you out of hell... possibly an even better incentive.

"All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should."
1 Cor. 9:25-26

Truth is, I can sign up for as many marathons as I want and read Runners World as much as I can. I know I need to run about once every 2 weeks and do yoga a few times to maintain the form of a runner. But when September 10th comes and I put on my number ticket and start running, I'm not going to get very far.

This life I'm living isn't just to jump out of airplanes. That's why people create bucket lists... we all know that those things aren't what life is about, but we feel the need to do them anyway (and that's another conversation in and of itself). Over the past few months, I'm feeling...a lot. I'm feeling the anger of injustice, the sorrow of a hurting friend, the joys of a celebrating couple, and the hopelessness of a broken soul. These feelings are not personally drawn to surface from my own being. I know whence they come from, and I can guarantee you it's not from the conjures of my heart. But it's as if Jesus is saying: Following me is not on your bucket list.

Following Jesus is more than a free sign-up for the first 20 people who are too cheap to buy in. It's more than reading Relevant magazine and writing blogs about Him. It's more than maintaining an attitude of kindness only when speaking to people. Our bodies fade. Our ideas fizzle. Our souls are what carries on to the next stage of life... and if we're not careful, we could reach the end of our life and wonder when we let our souls become so weak that they cannot stand to worship our Creator.

We all go through rough spots. Running has taught me that. Some days are just not great running days, and that's ok. Some days I run longer, and I get excited... and then some days a mile is like running 205,000 miles. But either through walking/running, I finish. And some days I bail, quit, and regret it. But tomorrow is always a new day.

I speak not of the rough spots. I've learned by now that perfection in any area is absurd. But one thing I refuse to give into is the idea that you don't need to do anything to keep your soul alive. I need love. Lots of love. And no, not from you. I need love from Jesus...which I have. And it's through that love that I'm able to act, think, move, and be in a way that keeps my soul beating.

Following Jesus isn't always fun. Sometimes it is... sometimes you run by a breathtaking sunset that makes you wonder if you're not dreaming. Sometimes you run with a friend who encourages you to push yourself a little harder, all the while sticking by your side.

But sometimes you're running in the cold, bitter rain, with no one beside you. It feels lonely, and impossible to finish. You think to yourself "Is this worth it? Will it really affect anybody if I bail?" In the world of running, probably not. But in the running I speak of... well, I'll let you to talk that over with Jesus.

I leave you with this:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us".
Heb. 12:1

Maybe we're not as alone as we thought.

This isn't as depressing as it sounds.

We are shells. Skin, hair, nails, legs, bones. We are made of dust. We are created, and eventually we decay as we return to the dust from which we were originally formed.

This blog has been a long one in the making.

Over the past 6 months 2 people in my family have passed away. My grandfather first, and then most recently my great-uncle. Over the past 24 years of my life, only one other person that I have known well has passed on, and it happened when I was much younger.

The death of my grandfather hit me hard. He was an integral part of our family. He and my grandmother played a large part in my life- taking us to Disney World, the countless stays at their house in Long Island, Thanksgiving dinners, the playtimes, and the list goes on. He was a Navy man who loved to laugh, loved crumb cake, loved his family, and loved His Lord. His passing wasn't sudden; his body started to "shut down" (as we say) about ten years ago after a stroke. His speech was minimum, he couldn't see very well, his coordination was mismatched, and there was little (towards the end) that he could do by myself. My amazing grandmother stuck by his side every second... the love they shared is another story in and of itself. But if you don't believe in true love, well, you haven't met my grandparents.

The death of my great uncle was slightly more sudden, but only in comparison to my grandfather. Uncle Ralph suffered from physical ailments for years, but within the last few months was hospitalized and given his final days. He and his family were able to give their goodbyes and share their last earthly moments together. My Uncle leaves such positive memories in my head- he and my Aunt Mary came to Thanksgiving at our house every year. He always smelled of cigars and had the most beautiful, deep singing voice a man could have. Christ was at his center, and His love spewed into every relationship. His love for music and laughter attracted many to him, and his presence, along with Pop-pop's, will be greatly missed here on this earth.

As I have been trying to process these deaths, it hasn't been easy. Especially after the most recent. My grandfather didn't have an open casket. But at my Uncles, there were a few seconds where I saw him lying there. As I sit here typing this, I'll never forget the shock and almost surreal feelings that encompassed me as my eyes locked on his face. The open casket caught me by surprise, and I could barely hold contact with the face before me for much longer than 10 seconds before breaking into heart-wrenching sobs. And oddly enough, it's not out of pure sadness.

We are just shells, and I've never realized that more than I did in that moment. If I think about it too long, it actually starts to freak me out a little bit. I kind of feel like pulling at my skin to get inside to where I really am. It's beyond my comprehension to understand how it happens, but my uncle is not the person that I saw in the coffin. It was the packaging. The soul of who he was still remains; his soul is home.

The rest of the funeral was surreal. Standing next to my grandmother (my uncle's one and only sibling) as she's holding my hand and singing hymns about God's faithfulness and the hope of tomorrow. The same grandmother that just lost her husband 5 months ago. As me and my brother made our way home my mind was still spinning. Typically I think death forces us to rethink what we place our faith in. I place my faith in the fact the Jesus Christ has offered salvation to every one of us while we are here on earth, and what we do with that offer determines what happens when we pass on. And I know, more than ever, that my faith is still in Christ alone. My faith is not my crutch. It's not something I'm hoping is right. My faith has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Him. Staring in that coffin caused me to remember that last time I checked, I didn't create myself, and I certainly won't know what to do with myself when I die. This life is not the end-all; it's only the beginning. This is the packaging stage... Handle the contents with care.

Please go away from reading this blog post (if you've made it this far) knowing that you are much more than an empty shell. You are more than what you see. What I see. We are comprised of a soul that is begging to be freed from its shell...and one day it will be. Don't focus so much on the shell. Don't place all your efforts into what decays back into dust.

Rejoice in the fact that we will not always be limited by our skin and bones, and that we are MUCH more than a physical make-up.