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What's A Ministry Wife to Do?

By Judy Rachels

John insisted that each person has a story. He proved it by asking Dave, a passerby, to chat for a few minutes. They navigated the typical conversational trivia–weather, traffic, and job. Then John gently said, "Dave, we’ve been talking here for the past 5 minutes and you haven’t stopped smiling. Can you tell me why?"

Dave responded, "I was born with something similar to a harelip. My mouth wasn’t quite right and my mother was upset. Eventually I had an operation to correct it, but the operation went wrong. Now I have a smile on my face all day long. Many people think that’s marvelous. But what I want to know is this: How do you tell people you’re crying inside when you have a permanent smile on your face?"

An essential part of the ministry wife’s task is "the smile." In fact, trying to understand what else to do as the completer of the ministry team reminds me of a quote by the late Erma Bombeck: "Mothering is mostly trying to figure out what to do and how to do it in public." Ministry is done in public, often with a smile on the outside, and sometimes with tears on the inside. So, what is a ministry wife to do?

NURTURE YOUR SOUL

Make room for God through quiet contemplation and systematic study. This balance is most effective for the downdraft of activities that prey on ministry people. Read from a wide spectrum of disciplines. Be a keen observer of life. Nourishing words, so longed for by parishioners, can be traced to your own spiritual power. Lighting passion in those you serve is paramount. Boris Pasternak said, "It is not revolutions and upheavals that clear the road to new and better days, but someone’s soul inspired and set ablaze."

Serve

As we observe people serving people, we also experience a softening and nurturing. Then one day, without realizing it, we take up our basin and know that the calling has come to us. Henri Nouwen said, "The joy that compassion brings is one of the best-kept secrets of humanity. It is a secret known only to a very few people, a secret that has to be rediscovered over and over again."

Each new member in our family hears the stories about the people who serve. Miss Evelyn is one of those stories. She had an eighth-grade education and a broad, toothy smile that said, "Welcome." Her enthusiastic, "Hey y’all," meant, "I am glad you came here; there is nothing and no one as important as you."

Miss Evelyn reigned over the cash box of Daffin and Rachels’ Grocery. She was the queen of the corner store. Single handedly she supervised, organized, and sanitized the market. She kept the cold drink box full of Nehi^® and RC^® and swept up behind the stock hands. But she could leave it to sashay ’round the counter to distribute friendly hugs to the cotton mill workers who stopped by the market each day for self-rising flour and salt pork for their families’ suppers. Most customers dropped by every day. I’m convinced it was because they needed a regular dose of Miss Evelyn’s optimism, encouragement, and care.

Miss Evelyn’s second great love motivated her to be in the kitchen early on Sunday mornings. She had pitchers of sweet ice tea cooling on the windowsill, snap beans simmering, Jell-O^® molded, and chicken ready to be fried. But it would be hours before this dinner would be eaten.

Known as Sister Rachels at church, Miss Evelyn was the Primary Department Sunday school superintendent. She had important things to do and people to meet. She took her job seriously. On Sundays she would work her charm on the 120 pupils in her department. For decades she’d arrive at church 1 1/2 hours early. (She’d be horrified if anyone arrived before she did.) With loving hands she checked bulletin boards, arranged chairs, passed out the papers, and prepared the plaster birthday cake offering bank. (She was doing her part in teaching children the importance of giving to missions, at least on their birthdays.) She wanted everything in its place before the first child arrived. Once children entered the door, she belonged to them. Today, hundreds of baby boomers originally from Columbus, Georgia, who are now in the worlds to which they’ve migrated, recall how they learned "Climb, Climb Up Sunshine Mountain" from Sister Rachels. They loved her.

At the grocery store as well as at church, the little boy behind her apron–now my gray-haired husband–was observing and storing away her people charms. Part of the equipment he would one day bring to his ministry was franchised at Daffin and Rachels’ Store and the Primary Department. He learned that people are more important than events; people desperately need each other; encouragement is the most important commodity to have in stock; people go away with a little bit of us in them; and we are changed by people.

A thousand miles away during those same years, another lady was investing her life, energy, and creativity into the lives of those attending First Assembly. Those folks could be sure that Sister Homer, my mother, would always shake their hands, listen to their stories, and pray with them over their concerns. Her weeks were marked by daily appearances on a live Christian radio broadcast. She prayed over and anointed cloths that were mailed in response to requests for prayer. She entertained visiting preachers, participated in daily visits to nursing homes and hospitals, and provided rides for aging parishioners.

She was the pastor’s wife and then some. She was thrilled folks had chosen to attend our church. She–the church secretary, visitation pastor, auditorium Bible class teacher, and occasional song leader–was an adoring mother and wife. I, the only child (the third member of the ministry team), felt significance and responsibility in doing my part in the Lord’s work. I always had a front-row seat as her assistant.

After the age of 8, I was required each week to talk to at least one senior citizen and get to know his or her name. My weekly assignments included a minimum of attending three services, having the Sunday school enthusiasm, sitting on the front row, and being a good example for the flock. I learned the important lessons of showing up, taking my turn, and serving others. I learned that the most important people in the world were those the Lord had called us to serve.

My mother, an ordained minister, took seriously the preaching and teaching part of ministry, but you can be sure the roast beef dinner was ready to adorn the pre-set table right after Sunday morning service. She did it all and loved it.

Remember, the family is a team

I stopped by the lobby after service to chat with an already smiling Sister Brown. Before I could greet her, she said, "What a wonderful morning. I got just what I needed." I was about to agree with her about the impact of the pastor’s message that morning when she said, "No, not that. Your 10-year old Lance came by with a hug and said, ‘I love you, Sister Brown.’ I needed that." Sometimes it takes a family to minister to a congregation.

Hang in there

A cherished compliment came from a long-time church member who had this word for me on our farewell day. "Judy, the day I loved you most during your decade of ministry to us was the day I saw you walk into service, and I knew your heart was broken." They notice. They respond.

During the nearly daily rainstorms in Florida (home during my growing-up years), I was charmed by observing raindrops clinging to the window. I watched them as they raced each other to the bottom of the pane. In their gravitational rush, they sometimes followed a path where they joined momentarily with other drops. Occasionally, two would continue along together; other times they’d leave some of their mass behind and run more wildly toward their destinations. Charting their journey was always new, surprising, adventuresome, and educational. These factors were constant. There was always co-mingling, joint venture, movement, change. Life and ministry assure us there will be flooding and diminishing, purposeful movement toward a goal, as well as circuitous, adversity-strewn paths, and always change.

CONCLUSION

The church historically and currently wrestles with the issue of the woman’s role in leadership. Jesus encouraged differentiation between tradition and truth. He called us to truth that abolishes prejudice. A lifetime of ministry leaves me with this sure knowledge: I’ve found there’s a strange pen that writes our to-do list while we’re at our place of service. When we’re teaching, we realize the good information we can share with our own children; while substituting in the toddlers class, we can’t wait to get home and share the remnants of the custom-designed snacks with our own little ones; while visiting nursing homes, we are convinced of the wide range of freedoms available to us, so we hurry home to spend the rest of the afternoon in the backyard with our own family and close out the evening with smores before bedtime. An integration of ministry and family is entirely possible.

Judy Rachels is a licensed minister with the Assemblies of God and lives in Huntington Beach, California. She is the wife of T. Ray Rachels, superintendent of the Southern California District of the Assemblies of God.