Hey, church planter’s wife, with a load of laundry going in the basement and a tiny but real church in your living room—I see you.
You with the little ones who are trying to figure out whether they’re going to school or church today as you pull into the elementary parking lot to set up for yet another service—I see you.
You with the family camping trip interrupted by a phone call asking for prayer or advice or a listening ear or a hospital visit—I see you.
You with the longing for friends but no real outlet to air your deepest struggles because you want to protect your husband in the eyes of his church people—I see you.
You with the pressure to have it all together, to be THE example of a godly woman/wife/mom/boss girl/whatever, even (especially?) when it comes from inside your own heart—I see you.
You with the husband who carries the weight of a flock on his shoulders day in and day out, you who watch his grey hairs come in way too early and rub his back as he cries, you who are either so inspired by him or angry at him (depending on the week) as he preaches on Sunday you can hardly stand it—I see you.
You who left your entire support network behind for the sake of the kingdom—I see you.
You who wonder if you’re sacrificing your kids on the altar of ministry and if they’re being robbed by not getting to experience a different church with good friends—I see you.
You who live with the SAME AMOUNT OF AMBIGUITY AS THE WIFE OF A SOLDIER WHO IS MIA (and, according to research,* that’s all of us)—I see you.
You who feel guilty spending money on yourself because it came from financial partners, and do you really want to have to report to them that you got your eyebrows waxed again?—I see you.
You who helped dream up and birth a church—like an actual, real-life church—and then had to hand it over to a group of male leaders you just hope will love it as much as you do—I see you.
You who have a hard time saying no because aren’t we supposed to model life together and serving joyfully and engaging every second of the day?—I see you.
You who meet with church ladies for coffee and wonder if they actually like you or if you’re just useful to them—I see you.
You who feel disrespected because you’re not paid staff and have no clear role—I see you.
You who are crushed watching people you’ve invested in choose the way that leads to more brokenness in their own lives and in the lives of those around them—I see you.
You who weren’t equipped at all for this crazy, beautiful, messy journey of being a church planter’s wife—I see you.
I understand. I get it. I haven’t felt every one of these things, but I know girls who have. You aren’t alone, and you don’t have to figure it out by yourself. I see you.
But more importantly, God sees you. He chose you. He loves you. He is for you. He is thrilled that you’re His little girl. He won’t abandon you. He is holding you up. He has good plans for you. He’s heartsick over you. He can’t stop looking at you.
Precious girl, don’t you know you’re seen?
God never overlooks a single sparrow. And He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail – even numbering the hairs on your head!
(Luke 12:6-7 MSG)
* “Church planting is filled with uncertainty. For the wife, this uncertainty is magnified as it impacts all areas of her life for which she has little or no preparation. Studies conducted on clergy families discovered that the ambiguity for the wife is comparable to the ambiguity a military wife experiences when her husband is MIA, missing in action. (Lee, 1988.) The unknown can be paralyzing as a wife waits for circumstances to change.”
(quote from the Parakaleo research page)