Meet The Pastor's Wife

I'm learning quickly that we as Christians have created a good, right, and salutary way to do literally anything. Especially in conservative branches like the Lutheran church. Even walking through a pregnancy loss. "Miscarriage". I hate that word, as if I were just bad at carrying the baby, or made a mistake. On the day I found out, I naturally went down the rabbit hole of doom on Google, looking up stats and what to expect. I know people who have endured losses at all stages

There are a few awful (and wholly unnecessary) weeks between Call Day (the day seminary students learn where their first pastoral job will be) and graduation day. And yes, the seminary students go to their regularly scheduled classes every day in between. Even on Call Day. Like, come on now. Everyone buzzes around campus and floods each other's phones with congratulations and inquiries about their call. Seminary students are on Zillow more often than they are paying attention

My baby popped her last tooth today. I shouldn't even call her a baby; she just turned two. The teething phase is over. I have teething drops and remedies scattered around the house that I don't know what to do with. I have teethers in storage that may never be used again. Do I keep them in the hopes of the next baby that I keep praying for but isn't coming? Is my baby motherhood phase over? Forever? Is this it? Am I done with teething, with first solids, with breast pumps an

Maybe this isn't the most pastor's wife-y content. Maybe it is. "You can't be all things for all people." I think most of us have come to understand and embrace this. Of course I can't be all things for the strangers on the street, or for my extended family, or even for my friends. If you've read anything else in this blog, you know I am adamantly against being all things for my husband's church. I can't be all things even for my immediate family. But what about the times whe

I wanted this so badly but I'm afraid that I'm hating it.

I'm convinced that there isn't a good way to transition from job to job as a pastor. I'll admit, my dad was a rarity. He was in the same call for almost 30 years. I never had to move as a pastor's kid. That's simply not the reality for most people. I mean, most people don't stay in any job that long, pastor or not. My husband just had his last day at his current call. We'll be moving to our new home in a week. I cannot express the stress he has had on his young shoulders. Of

“Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach…” 1 Timothy 3:2 This morning, I came across the news that an LCMS pastor in Missouri, not only a pastor, but a district president, was arrested and investigated by the FBI for child pornography production and abuse. Now, I normally keep my politics pretty close to my chest. In fact, I normally don’t care much for politics or anything of that natu

Fun fact: I'm a nationally certified barista. I’m no slacker. And no, seminary isn’t "free". Am I really flaky? A crappy employee? Nope. I was just a seminary wife. When my husband was studying at seminary (pastor school) post-college, I held a shiny new teaching degree and went hunting for my first full-time job. But here’s the thing: the standard seminary route has one of the most fragmented schooling schedules I’ve ever heard of, and no one wants to hire those of us along

I’m currently sitting at a coffee shop, nursing awful period cramps and a peppermint cold brew, on the heels of an ultrasound. Not for a baby. For infertility. And if one more person at my church says, “When’s the next one coming?!” I’m moving to Canada. It’s going to happen. I should get my passport renewed. Add to to-do list. Yes, I have two kids. Yes, I’m very, very thankful for them. Yes, secondary infertility still hurts like hell. Do not assume anything about anyone’s f

There are snails that move faster than the pastoral call process. My husband and I are currently waiting on the call process. We're at a complete standstill, one foot in our current call (and yes, I do consider it a call for both of us), and one foot in what could be. We'll be here for the next 3-4 months at best, testing our patience. Maybe longer. And at the end of it all, we might not even move. We might stay exactly where we are, doing exactly what we're doing. If you’re

Any normal person in church (really, in any social situation) is going to have favorites. Including the pastor's wife.

My all-time favorite Christian books for the littlest listeners from my experience as a mom, teacher, and pastor's wife

My husband is my pastor. He's also my husband. The person who runs most of the goings-on of my church is my husband. The person who delivers most sermons I hear on Sundays is my husband. The person who heads up meetings that make major church decisions is my husband. The one leading most of the Bible studies I have attended lately is...you guessed it, my husband. Sometimes I get really frustrated with my church. I get mad about the way something is run, or how an event went,

Pastors and their families need some important boundaries with their church.

Rule number one: DO NOT ENGAGE. Hi, I’m Emily. I’m a pastor’s wife. Chances are that if you’re reading this, you’re about to be one, too. Welcome to the club. The first year after Call Day is a wild one. You’ll probably meet some lifelong friends and get to explore a new area, but this year is also critical to set up your entire life as a pastor’s family. (No pressure.) This first year can be make or break. Make bad habits now, and it’s really hard to reverse them. Don’t worr

I know. I'm not proud of it or anything. It just happened. I think people naturally assume that when you’re married to the pastor, faith is a very natural part of the household. I mean, you pray before meals you pray before bed, so faith should be a foundational part of life, right? Maybe in other pastors’ families this is the case, but I’ve been a pastor’s child and pastor’s wife, and in neither household thus far have we talked about faith nearly enough. Especially not near

A few times in the past month, my husband has turned to me after tucking our kids in and said 6 words that simultaneously brought excitement and resentment: "A church reached out to me." One email from a completely unknown person from an unknown church in an unknown town. And this is how every job opportunity in our church denomination (the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod) begins. Let's review how most people get jobs. Search forums, google, local ads, or job sites for a job.

I recently applied for a job at our church. I was really excited about the job and thought I would be a great fit. In case you hadn't heard, pastors don't make a ton of money and stay-at-home moms make even less, so I was eager to combine my passions in the workplace and have a little income boost. Maybe we could get some takeout pizza with extra toppings every now and then! I had half a notebook scribbled with ideas, and I could already feel the excitement rising in my ches

I dread the end of the worship service. As soon as it ends, I just want to pack up the granola bar crumbs and board books from my pew, stuff them into the unorganized depths of my diaper bag, and sprint out with my overtired kids. But as soon as the last note of the closing song sounds, the pastor's wife post-service routine begins. Even before I stand up from packing up the diaper bag, someone comes by and comments on how well or poorly my girls behaved during service. After

Hi. My name is Emily. If you’re reading this, you’re one of the few who knows my name. At church and in my community in general, my name is “Pastor’s Wife” or (my favorite, just to give an extra degree of separation between myself and the speaker) “ The Pastor’s Wife”. And it’s not a, “oh, you’re Pastor’s wife, aren’t you? I knew you looked familiar. I’m Debbie. Remind me your name?” No, no. It’s a "hello" from a distance and then the explanation to their children, “that’s t