Dear Pastor’s Wife,
You may or may not have expected God to set you on this path. In fact, you probably tried to run as far away from it as possible yet here you are. You didn’t chase this role, but it found you. And now the question is: Will you embrace it so that you can be used by God beyond the confines of your imaginations?
Your life is like that of someone who lives in a glass house. It’s visible to others, even when you don’t consent to being watched. People applaud you, but they also keep history of your flaws. Your mistake can become someone else’s doctrine (if not handled with grace and discernment) so you don’t have the luxury of failing or falling in private. Unlike other areas of purpose, you are surrounded by very high expectations. You are not only seen as a leader, you are expected to be a saint and embodiment of perfection. You are expected to be Martha, with the heart of Mary. You are expected to steward your home like you have no other responsibility, and steward your ministry like you have no other obligation. You are expected to be strong, tireless, flawless, and endlessly available. The list is endless. For this reason, it may start to feel like a cage but the truth is the office of a Pastor’s Wife is one of sacred trust and spiritual weight. And so, it must be handled with responsibility and accountability.
You may not be the one standing behind the pulpit each Sunday but your influence, wisdom and spiritual authority travel through conversations, counsel, your presence and your example. Like Deborah, your voice will speak life into battles that aren’t your own. Like Priscilla, your words will shape sound doctrine. And like Mary, you will nurture sacred assignments in hidden places before they ever become public victories. This path that has so chosen you can be lonely and weighty. Not because people are absent but because most aren’t allowed close enough to see the real you. You may be invited to meetings where no one speaks directly to you. You may stand beside your husband and feel like a silhouette, or sit in leadership gatherings yet feel invisible. This sense of being vital but blending into your husband’s shadow. One of the tests you’ll be faced with is satisfying the desire to dart off your own path thinking you also have gifts and talents to show the world. And that you deserve to enjoy the spotlight, just as much as your husband. It’s a dangerous thing to serve with the expectation of applause. If you care to sit a moment with your husband who is truly walking in obedience to God in ministry, you might be surprised to learn that contrary to what it looks like, wearing the crown feels more like pain, pressure and sacrifice. So, if anything, he needs your support, spiritually and otherwise. When he feels discouraged, be there to remind him why he started and redirect his focus to things that will matter in eternity. When the enemy cannot reach your husband, he will come for you. Pray that of all the battles your husband has to fight, you will not be one of them. He is your husband and Priest but do not make the mistake of placing him on a pedestal (out of reverence and respect), beyond counsel or correction. Majority of those around him, if not all, are trying to gain his favor so that leaves you with the responsibility of treading the fine line between being his cheerleader and his sound board. Walk that fine line with wisdom and love.
The church is under your care but your first assignment is your home. In your passion and compassion to extend the blanket over others, ensure that your own family is not left uncovered. Ministry must never come at the expense of your home. Your spouse and your children are not interruptions to your calling. They are integral to it. Being a Mother in Israel doesn’t mean being everything to everyone. It means being faithful where you are first planted, then allowing that faithfulness to flow outward. It means mastering the art of pouring out without running dry.
You are also human. And you are allowed to need help, to need a break, to feel lost, to be ministered to. As you nurture others, find a place where you too, can be nurtured. Every mentor needs a mentor. Every minister should have a minister. Let someone see the woman beneath the anointing. God sees your tears between services. He sees the burdens you carry in secret so your husband can be free to run and focus on the pulpit. He sees when you whisper prayers over your children after midnight. And with every trial, test or temptation, he’s making your life more beautiful so that at the end of the way, you can say like Paul “I have finished my course”.
Your life is the loudest message you’ll ever preach. But what happens when your life feels like a contradiction to your message? What happens when you’re asked to speak on joy but you’re grieving inside? When you’re invited to counsel on marriage but yours feels like a work in progress? When you’re called to teach on healing but you’re living on pills and trusting God for your own healing? You don’t have to be perfect to be used. God doesn’t call the flawless. He calls the surrendered. He speaks through the cracks, not just the clean lines. The world doesn’t need another performance. It needs the raw, redemptive beauty of authenticity. Even in your weakness, show up. Even when your crown feels heavy, show up with grace and honesty. But share from a place of wisdom, not pressure. The gospel is enough. You do not have to uncover your nakedness just to prove your authenticity and sincerity. Your story is not a transaction.
Finally, don’t let the pressure to be liked make you lose your identity. Be kind, be loving, be human but do not bow to the idol of being relatable. You are not called to be everyone’s favorite. You are called to be God’s vessel. That means setting boundaries such as saying “no” without guilt, guarding your family, guarding your oil. Spend time in the secret place so that God can minister to and through you.
May you rise, not as a woman trying to fit into a mold, but as the one God chose to break it. May you find grace in your imperfections and clarity in your calling. And may you always remember that your value is not in what people see but in who God says you are. May you be sustained by a strength that doesn’t crumble under pressure. Even in silence, may you feel seen and deeply held. May you receive the wisdom to know when to speak and when to stay silent, when to lead and when to simply be present. May the Holy Spirit guide you through every season, in mentorship, in motherhood, in marriage, in ministry, with a sensitivity that comes only from abiding with God.
With love,
Another woman in a glass house,
Women of Purple
