by Katerina

A year ago, I married my husband, an associate worship pastor, and thus entered the unique and wacky world of "pastors wife." I was certainly not naïve to ministry, having just completed 11 years as a college minister and having observed my fair share of clergy couples over the years. A few months into our first year of marriage, a friend emailed asking, "So how's it going? How is the 'aura' of being a pastor's wife?"

I'd heard rumours of this—the aura—that pastors wives are in the "fish bowl" so to speak, observed, befriended and criticized by all. Being in a church of 2,700 however, people hardly knew my husband was a pastor let alone that I was his wife! "Hi, I'm Katerina, Pastor Jason's wife." "Pastor who?" "Pastor Jason. *pause* . You know, the happy keyboard guy?" "Ohhhhhhh. Yes yes." No, my entry into my new church felt very normal and smooth and I was able to blend in as easily as the next congregant. What a relief! What freedom! Right? Wrong.

Reality is I didn't want to be unknown and unseen. As a leader in my previous ministry, I was accustomed to being heard and seen and followed. Where I once had ample opportunity to teach and speak, now there were ample others who were teaching and speaking. Where I once had a myriad of creative outlets, I was now in an environment where my creative expression didn't fit. Where I once was looked to as a spiritual guide and mentor, I was now simply the "pastor's wife." How odd, how confusing, how annoying.

"OK," I thought. "Doesn't matter—I'll just do and be like everyone else and find a niche where I can serve." Oh dear. This began a most frustrating and embarrassing cycle. It went like this: I volunteered for something, I tried, I failed, I got hurt, I backed off. I volunteered for something, I was declined, I got hurt, I backed off. and on it went. I even ended up singing in the choir, and if you could hear how I sing, you'd agree that's just wrong! Whether I tried to serve in my area of gifting or just in an area of need in the church (out of desperation), I felt like all doors were closed to me. I was standing on the outside of the church looking in and I felt so useless and so BORED. And. so bitter.

By this point I was starting to wake up and realize that "perhaps" God was involved here. Was God giving me a break from ministry? Maybe. Was God giving me a year to adjust to marriage? That sounds good. Was God humbling me? Ouch. After many tears and countless "no end" conversations with my husband, I had had enough. I was tired of trying, tired of feeling rejected, and tired of being negative. This was simply not the Spirit-filled life and of no use to God or myself. Finally, at a mid-week communion service, I decided to give surrender another go. I confessed my bitterness to God—along with my confusion and hurt. While I didn't know what God wanted from me in terms of service, I knew that He still wanted me—still wanted my heart and my devotion. I decided that evening to release any future ministry to Him and simply worship Him. Yet not as I will, but as you will. (Matthew 26:39b)

In the midst of this, I picked up a journal by Henri Noewen titled, The Genesee Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery. In this book, Henri Noewen, an acclaimed Catholic speaker, author and professor, tries to calm his workaholic spirit and fit into the seemingly mundane routine of a monastery. While every journal entry was rich with insight, one was a definite "the light shone around her" moment. In speaking to Henri about prayer, his mentor reflects, "When you are faithful in [prayer], you will slowly experience yourself in a deeper way. Because in this useless hour in which you do nothing 'important' or 'urgent,' you have to come to terms with your basic powerlessness, you have to feel your fundamental inability to solve your or other people's problems or to change the world."

I had arrived at my husband's church with a little dance, a big "ta da!" and an expectation for significant service. Little did I know I was going to learn powerlessness. Little did I know I was going to become "useless" for Him. And yet, this is the Spirit-filled life. Not seeking my will and my service, but rather giving Him full reign to use me as He wills. For now, His will seems to include enjoying my garden, enjoying my neighbours, enjoying co-leading our small group and enjoying my family. And for now, I'm not complaining.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:29

Katerina has worked with Focus on the Family Canada for the past two years as the Donor Communications Manager in Development.