I hate the term minister's wife. Ok, hate's strong. Under appreciate. It conjures up images of a smiling, nodding woman in a sweater set that hits you up side the head when you get the giggles in church. Shallow and childish, I know, but I still don't like it. And if I'm introduced to someone as our youth minister's wife...um, what's your name? again.....well, protect the side of your head. Metaphorically speaking. The metaphorical side of your metaphorical head.
I guesse even after six years, I'm still uncomfortable in this sweater set. It's like I'm temporarily filling in for the girl who's supposed to be here and would do a heck of a lot better job at it. I don't want to pretend this is my dream gig. That's a lie and it leads to what I call BMWS (Bitter Minister's Wife Syndrome). That's not such an uncommon affliction. I've also seen many cases of Lost Identity-itis. Granted, that can happen to anyone, but I'm talking about the wife who's soul purpose is to make sure her husband is thriving in his ministry with freshly pressed, well coordinated suits, chuckling as he tells yet another family anectdote- with considerable poetic license. That's a role I can't fill. I'm not nice enough.
It's alot of pressure, you know. Self imposed, but still. I mean if John was, say, a baker, I wouldn't be too concerned about putting his job in jeapordy because I was late for bagel time or I wasn't on dish duty as much as I should be. I wouldn't feel like I had to bite my tongue if I questioned the prohibition of plastic bowls or really didn't like the old recipe. As a matter of fact, I found a new recipe. What do you think of that? Plus, I don't think bakers spend too many weekends away at muffin conventions.
So, am I just complaining? Maybe. I do that sometimes. But I am greatful that John works at a church that hasn't made this more challenging than I myself am making it. Alot of this is me being a little crazy and some of it is just the nature of being a part of a minister's family. And I really do believe that the only reason it's worked out this far is because John is the most real, genuine kind of guy. No smiling pretentions or cliched, winking pat answers. He is who he is and that allows our family to be who we are. I couldn't do it otherwise. Seriously.
But if he ever decided to take up baking, I wouldn't complain. That's all I'm saying.
Ang
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7 comments:
one time we baked oatmeal together, then had an oatmeal fight, and some people got hives.
Ang, in some way I know what you mean. For the rest of my life, I will be known as 'the one who has the triplets'. I may as well forget even giving people my name.
Ang, I think of you more as the wife of an Oiler fan, trapped, unable to escape. (Joking of course). I do think of you as genuine and very good at keeping people in line. (Not being negative in that, and not just talking about your kids and John).
Have a nice day! (and evening being forced to watch another crumby Oiler game)....kidding again
Steve
can you ask john to make me some muffins? a muffin convention would be sweet.
I was saying very bitter things about being the wife of a carpenter just the other day. We have millions of projects that are started but not finished and I leave home for a weekend away and I come home and the stairs have been moved and that useless third bedroom is gone! But I guess I gotta take the guy how he comes - hammer and all!
Roberta
I think that at some point we all get defined by some label - some point or event in your life that everybody remembers you for.
For those of us in the married with kids way, it usually means being "the wife of" or "the mother of".
Some days it's nice just to be Buffy. I get the distinct feeling that most of our husbands do not have this problem.
Yeah- why is that? Although, I guesse men often get their identity through their jobs, which is really no better. I don't think so, anyway. Crazy labels.
Ang
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