Dear Mothers, Pastors' Wives and Other Invisible Servants

Do you ever wonder about the value of your backstage service? 

It's been a season of some "invisibility" for me around here, and I'm feeling it. There have been events I wanted to be at, times I wanted to meet people and be a tangible part of our work here, and for one reason or another, I've ended up home alone with the kids while Nathan took part. Cold January nights alone have a way of making you question whether you're really as valuable to a ministry as those people who get to be the mouth-pieces, the leaders, the visible ones. And I know the sinfulness of my desire for human recognition and jealousy of those who are chosen to be on the visible front lines while I serve in the background, but that doesn't mean I don't still struggle with these feelings from time to time. So this week, I needed a reminder from myself... As our former pastor is fond of saying, "Don't forget in the darkness what you believed in the light." My post today is a letter I wrote years ago in a season of light to another ministry wife (somewhat adapted). It's written to a wife and mother, but these things really apply to any of the silent servants in the church.

Dear friend,
I think the desire to do something "noticeable" is a pretty common struggle for mothers, and is probably felt more in women whose husbands are in public ministry, because we see our husbands getting noticed all the time. While this is not a current struggle for me, it is certainly something I have struggled with in the past, and I'm sure will struggle with at times in the future [Ha! Here we are!], so the following words are as much a reminder and preparation for me as they are, hopefully, of help and encouragement to you.

Beautiful Scars?

There's a post floating around the internet lately which combats the view that babies ruin your body, arguing that really all those pounds, stretch marks, back pains and possibly caesarean scars are beautiful because they bring about the joy of motherhood. And I certainly agree that if your main reason for avoiding pregnancy is to avoid any physical scars associated with it, your priorities are a little off.

But the other day, I noticed my own stretch marks in the mirror. Mine don't come from pregnancy. To be honest, I don't know where they come from. Because they're on my back, I'd never really noticed them until shortly after my wedding when my husband pointed them out (he was a newbie--forgive him). Those scars come somehow from living life and they didn't produce any momentous joy that I'm aware of. Of course, I don't think about those marks most of the time. They're not visible to most people and they've never caused me any pain. But I know a lot of others with more serious scars. My husband has a nice long scar on his leg from major knee surgery last year. My father has a long scar down his chest from emergency quadruple-bypass surgery a few years ago. I have family and friends with scars left from mastectomies. There are the women whose stretch marks did come from pregnancy, but which only serve as a continual reminder of the baby they had to lay in the ground. And then there are the invisible scars that we all carry to some degree--whether they be from broken relationships, abuse, our own sin or catastrophic events outside our control. Live more than a couple years on this earth and you'll get yourself some scarring.

The Blessing of a Simple Testimony: A Letter to My Daughter

On Saturday afternoon, we had the great joy of seeing our oldest daughter baptized, and my husband had the great honour of being the one to carry it out. Over the past while, as she was working on writing out her testimony, she expressed the concern that what she had to say about how she came to know Jesus was "boring". Here are my thoughts for her, and for any of you who struggle with the same feeling:

My dear daughter,

I want to say, first of all, how happy your daddy and I are that God has reached into your life and called you to be his own daughter, that he is passing the faith he has given us on to the next generation. It is a joy for us to witness and participate in your baptism, and to call you not only daughter, but now sister as well!

I know that you have struggled with the feeling that your testimony is somehow lacking, somewhat boring. I understand because I, too, have a simple testimony. I remember praying "the sinner's prayer" (many times, actually) at the age of 5 or 6, and I really can't remember a time before that when I did not believe the Word of God and his saving gospel to be true. While I've had struggles (don't we all?!) and times of both lesser and greater growth, I still cannot point to a time in my life when I was not a Christian. And so there have been many times over the course of my life when I've heard or witnessed a testimony that involved great amounts of time and sin and struggle and fireworks, and I've wondered to myself why I couldn't have something more "interesting" to give as an answer to the question, "How did you come to follow Jesus?"

Tongue Control For Introverts

If I had a dollar for every time someone commented on how easy it must be for introverts like me to obey the third chapter of James, I could buy a few books on public speaking. But while I wouldn't mind a little extra pocket change, I'd rather dispel the mistaken notion that just because we quiet people don't talk a whole lot, we've got excellent control of our tongues. No, I'm not prone to blabbing out some completely inconsiderate comment that might set a few trees (or a whole forest) on fire--though I can't say it's never happened. Yes, we are a type who tend to think before we speak, and our words do tend to be few, but if that is all James is calling us to, he wouldn't be able to say "If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body". I'm pretty sure introverts still fall under the category of "anyone"!

What I will say is that it is definitely easier for introverts to fly under the radar on this one. We're far less likely to be accused of not reigning in our tongues (hence the dollar-worthy comments), but we're probably far less likely to be aware of our own lack of tongue control, too, which may well be more dangerous in the long run!

As I recently thought through this famous passage on controlling our speech, I was convicted of two different ways that I, in my quiet and thoughtful ways, have a tendency to lose control over my mouth (aside from the obvious occasional poorly-considered comment):

Prayerful Resolutions, Resolute Prayers

What kind of resolutions have you made this year? Are you the type to make radical, practically unattainable goals that you'll give up 3 weeks from now, or do you fit the profile of the disciplined person who sets attainable goals and won't rest until they are met? Most of us fit into one of these two camps, at least at some point in our lives. I'm typically the latter type: I figure out what I think I can reasonably pull off, and then make sure it gets done (no excuses!). So last year was one of the first years I didn't really make any firm resolutions. Between the puppies, the possibility of a big move, and the scheduling of a major surgery for Nathan, I didn't have any idea what I might be able to accomplish. With the whole year up in the air, I didn't feel the desire to make any goals I didn't know I could keep. No resolutions--I just had a number of big prayers!

Coming into 2014, as I reflect on things I'd like to see by year's end, there are several things that come to mind. But this year, despite our greater stability (and lack of crazy puppy mess), I am realizing that none of my serious desires for this year's life and work are things that I can "pull off". None of them are dependent solely on my effort and discipline. I can't manufacture the money we need to continue on here; I can't make anyone decide that Jesus is worth following; I can invest in relationships, but they are always a two-way street and I don't control the other lane. And I even screw up my lane sometimes! But God has control over all of these things. God can provide; God can save; God can prosper friendships. So I guess this year, I'm left once again with no great resolutions, and several big prayers.

As I think about this, though, it occurs to me that really, it's quite a silly distinction. Do we have any resolutions that we can really accomplish on our own? Do we really have control over our year, even when it starts off looking stable and predictable? And even if the year does go the way we had hoped, even if we lose the weight, never go near the sugar, read all those books, learn that new skill, share the gospel with as many people as we'd vowed, give more money away than we had resolved, if it's all by our own striving, who gets the glory? What does it really matter in the end?