October, 2016

I had an honest-to-goodness epiphany. It was less of a knocked-off-my-horse epiphany and more like Trixie in Mo Willem’s Knuffle Bunny: I REALIZED SOMETHING. It was big and will invariably effect the next 10 years of my life and beyond. And it was really small.

I cannot seek a call in the church right now.

That’s all. And that’s a huge epiphany for me (and also a very short sentence to encompass so much prayer and thought). Because, I’m a minister. It’s who I am, it’s what I do.

For years, I have been seeking calls in churches. And the work has been beyond-the-pail tasking emotionally. I began seeking these calls just as I became pregnant with my oldest child. And in my mind ever since, I have told myself this story: “This is hard because I have children. My ability to do this work will get easier when the children get older. When my youngest child goes to school, I will be able to pick this up again no problem.” I have always assumed that it was parenthood that made Sundays so hard (and yes, it does make it harder taking my kids to work with me. So hard, I rarely bring them along for the ride.)

This was not only a story I told myself, but also the one told often to women in general, and women in ministry. “It’s hard trying to work AND be a parent. It gets easier.” The whole trying-to-have-it-all stuff. I’ve been reading about it for years. In our culture,many people want to boil it down to kids.

And then last week, an old seminary friend shared that he is leaving his church call after two years because it was destroying his marriage. This is a man. With no children. But a marriage he values and a life he loves. And ministry was destroying it.

Hours later in the car it struck me: my difficulty accepting a church call has nothing to do with my children. It has to do with my marriage.

My partner and I have been together for our entire adults lives. We stumbled out of college together and been building our shaky life together one rock at a time every since. In the past 10 years he has devoted a great deal of his time to his work. His normal work day is about 12 hours, he works often on the weekend, and travels considerably. He is now discerning for himself how to find more balance, to share our family life, to make time for the two of us to show our love to each other.

For those of you who know churches: they don’t exactly stick to office-hours. Ministry mostly happens when my partner is finally home. It happens on the one day we have together (Sunday), it happens at weeknight meetings as he sneaks home early so I can leave. It happens when I am distracted thinking of a sermon instead of enjoying our one meal of the week together.

I can pursue a call in ministry and he would support it, because that’s who he is. But right now, that’s not what I choose. I want my marriage more. I want my partner more.

Were I to accept a church call, it would mean giving up my marriage. Maybe not right away, and maybe it would not mean “divorce is inevitable.” But I would certainly miss out on it. We would not have the time to nurture our relationship or just spend time enjoying each other. It would mean passing the parenting baton back and forth for years and hoping, praying and having the faith that when we came back together, we’d still both be on the same page. It would be a gamble.

And I would physically and emotionally miss him. I chose this person because I can stand being around him for longer periods of time than I can any other human. I would really, really miss him.

In 5 years, or 10 years, I imagine we will reshuffle things. We talk openly about doing so. I imagine having my Tami Taylor moment when she is ready to spread her career wings and turns to her husband and says, “It’s my turn, babe.” (Seriously, if you haven’t watched Friday Night Lights, just go and binge immediately.)

That’s not to say I won’t put anything out into the world until then. But it means no church call. For now. And more discernment.