I am not perfect.

Ha!!  The fact that I even have to write this sentence down- for some reason just makes me laugh.  I think it’s hilarious that many people assume that because I am married to a minister that I’ve got my act together.  So FUNNY!  I do not- and don’t know if I ever will have my act together.  I sometimes go weeks thinking… wow! I’m doing great as an adult/mom/wife/friend/daughter and then WHAMMMMMMOOOO! My imperfection is made blatently clear. I double book myself and my family; I miss appointments; I forget to call a friend; I forget to plan my kid’s birthday party (not to mention I never send b-day or anniversary cards. If you ever get one from me— feel super blessed!); our laundry is NEVER COMPLETED… EVER; I tend to get absorbed into a tv show… and then become depressed (slightly) when it ends; I let my house stay messy for too long; I allow my kids to get away with stuff; I stay up too late; I forget to read my Bible…. the lists of my imperfection just goes on and on…

I struggle with being a good wife and mother… every day.

The struggle is real, y’all.  I did not embrace that phrase fully until I moved to Arkansas… and I now have ownership of it.  After our 3rd boy was born, I struggled for months with postpartum depression.  It wore me down emotionally, physically and mentally. It’s been a long healing process… but the first step was acknowledging that it wasn’t just the blues.

My boys keep me on my toes… and they are all completely different. Different personalities, temperaments, reasons they get excited or angry… all DIFFERENT. Trying to stay on top of their differences; trying to maintain fairness (which isn’t equal) and at the same time, trying to teach them about the love of Christ… wowzers!

Not to mention making sure I am supporting my husband, his dreams and desires, as well as keeping my dreams and desires a reality as well! It’s such a balancing game… that I can’t quite seem to get my balance on yet (not sure I ever will!) Being a good wife means making sure I’m not grouchy with my husband when I’m in a bad mood… trying to have some semblance of dinner plans on the horizon so that he’s not having to hear his stomach growl…

I cannot be close friends with everyone (I can’t even be friends with everyone…)

This is hard for me– as deep in my soul, I want to be friends with everyone.

As a CPW, you are almost required to be friendly with everyone you meet. As believers, we are called to be a light to everyone we meet. That includes people who walk through the doors of your church.  Not to mention, if people think the minister’s wife is a snot– welp!– they may not come back.  HOWEVER, we cannot be close relationally to everyone in our church. This is hard for women– we want to be accepted. We want to have friends.  We want people to like us.  BUT… we can’t.  We are wired up to be friends with a few or friends to many. Each of us has our limit.  I’ve learned that I can be friends with many, but only close to a few at a time.  Those close friends have changed for me over the years- as we’ve moved states a few times since our marriage. It usually takes a few years to find new friends that I can trust to have my back (even when I’m being silly or irrational… or just plain loser’esque.)

After 3 years of church planting, I have had to choose which people to surround myself with in regards to close friendships.  Church planting is hard, so I’ve chosen people who pray for me, uplift and encourage me and push me to follow Christ with more passion. I have had to distance myself from those who don’t understand (and refuse to try to understand) why we’ve planted, those who choose to gossip about others and those who are divisive towards the Church (any church.) These could be people inside your church- don’t ignore them. Continue to pray for them; be a friend. Just put up boundaries when it comes to being dragged down. It’s a hard battle.

I need alone time

Working in a church, for any role, can be time consuming. Not to mention being married to a social butterfly who gets his energy from hanging out with people… non-stop. I LOVE being with people (I need people to keep me sane) however… I also need re-charging time. My husband (after 13 years of marriage) has finally come to understand and respect my need for a re-charge from time to time. So, if I decline an invite out (after a week of non-stop church events/meetings/bible studies/church work/worship practice/foster care prep… you get the picture), it has nothing to do with you. It literally is me- just re-charging so that I can smile on Sunday mornings (and not look like I have a migraine… or sick.)

I need help with things in the church.

I may look like I can handle a lot of responsibility– and I can- for the most part. But I do need help with many things in the church. I cannot run our church’s outreach to women by myself. I cannot clean the entire church weekly by myself. I cannot see all the gaps that our service flow has by myself. I cannot solely plan and roll-out a women’s event by myself.

I have known this since we started Thrive. And luckily, thanks to God, many awesome and amazing people serve alongside me. I’ve given the reins over to many trusted volunteers. But know, that I always need help somewhere. Give me an idea of something you could and would like to help with– and we can go from there!

I fail a lot in my relationship with Christ

I am a sinner… and fall short. Every day. I choose to do things (like write in my blog) before finishing my bible reading for the day. I find myself doubting God, frequently. I tend to think I can figure things out on my own. I sometimes go a whole day and purposely don’t talk to Jesus because I’m scared of what He’s gonna say to me. Or how much I’ll cry when I finally turn to Him…

But I do know this: every time I run… He seeks me out. When I am running scared; I realize that He’s been my jogging partner the whole trek, just waiting for me to turn and tell Him how out of breath I am. And so, when I finally push through my stubbornness and realize my pain could be alleviated by just turning to Him, I do… with my face pressed into the carpet. And every time, He hears me. He takes it.