Hidden Vulnerabilities
By Christine Hoover
On Sunday afternoons, my husband and I often go for a walk and debrief the church service. We talk about the sermon, and I offer him specific ways God spoke to me through his preaching. We talk about what encouraged us and, sometimes, what discouraged us. Finally, we talk about our various conversations, whether with longtime members or new visitors.
There have been many times in our two decades of ministry— usually those discouraging days—where I’ve recounted my Sunday morning to Kyle and closed by saying, “I so badly wish I could explain to others exactly how I experience church as the pastor’s wife.” If only I could voice in detail what’s hard or what hurts or why I think they should appreciate my husband more, I’m convinced I’d feel better. I’d feel known and seen, and everything about ministry would become easier.
Usually this is just me complaining, and I’m quickly reminded by the Lord (and, often, my husband, in gentle love) that ministry is not about me and my own comfort.
But sometimes I face legitimate hurts and unmet desires, and in most cases I can’t voice those things within the church. For example, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to tell people in the church that I’m struggling to love them or am wearied by their demands on my husband’s time. Instead, I must lovingly absorb what’s hard or what hurts for their sake, seeking to meet them with God’s grace and truth in every conversation and interaction.
This is what it means to be a leader.
You may be a ministry wife who shuns the spotlight, but those you serve still consider you to be one of their leaders. Your position alone grants you influence, and this positional influence can create similar dynamics to what your out-front leader husband experiences.
What we experience in positional leadership is what Andy Crouch, in his book Strong and Weak, calls “hidden vulnerability.” He defines vulnerability not as transparency but as “exposure to meaningful risk” and authority as “the capacity for meaningful action.” He says,
Leaders have evident authority—but almost by definition, they also bear vulnerability that no one else can see. . . . This is what it is to be a leader: to bear the risks that only you can see, while continuing to exercise authority that everyone can see.
The difference between the pastor and the pastor’s wife is that she often bears invisible vulnerability with only perceived authority. In other words, we carry similar emotional risks to those of our husband but, other than influencing our husband, we often have few pathways for meaningful action. For example, if someone is upset at our husband or there is conflict or discord within the church, we often know the details but don’t typically have recourse for approaching the person nor the opportunity to produce resolution.
So we carry it all internally.
A pastor’s wife could be compared to an iceberg (though hopefully not because we’re coldhearted!). What the church sees is only the tip of the iceberg: they observe where you sit on Sundays, they know who your children are and a few details about them, they know whether or not you work outside the home, and they could accurately describe your personality if asked. They see how you relate to people and in what ways you visibly serve. However, just as the majority of an iceberg is beneath the surface of the water, most of what you do and most of the burdens you carry could be considered unseen: the insights you provide for your husband as he prepares the sermon, the way you get the kids to church on your own, the prayers you offer every day for hurting people, the sacrifice of time you make, and the conscious decisions you make to keep quiet rather than defend your husband when he’s questioned or slandered.
And they can’t see these things, not because they are unloving or apathetic toward you but because this is what leadership entails, especially leadership in ministry. Leadership in ministry is servanthood: using our positional authority and influence to help others know Christ and grow in relationship to him and others. So if we’re to endure in what God has called us to do, we must learn to bear our hidden vulnerabilities well.
What are some of these vulnerabilities we encounter throughout ministry life? The list is long.
Loving the church in a way others may not relate to or understand.
Experiencing a constant pull on our attention and time.
Wearing multiple hats at church: wife, mom, congregant, and positional leader.
Navigating blurred lines between church community and social relationships or friendships.
Absorbing criticism of the one we love most in the world. Carrying concern for a disheartened and discouraged husband. Fearing that church pressures will drive our children to despise
God’s people.
Having many acquaintances and being known by name and sight in crowds of people but feeling lonely.
Carrying conversations and being asked few personal questions. Living in the shadow of a gifted and admired husband. Experiencing financial strain. Living far from family.
Being warily cautious of friendly overtures because of past betrayal.
Fighting to keep a soft heart while carrying private hurts.
Recognizing the weight of our influence and words and, at the same time, our humanity and weakness.
Sharing our husband with everyone. Juggling availability and openness to people with family time.
Interacting with someone whom we know is upset with our husband.
Loving people who are lukewarm in faith.
Serving in ways we don’t necessarily feel passionate about or equipped for.
Living with the weight of inescapable responsibility. Questioning whether or not God is using us. Wrestling with guilt over not being or doing enough. Grieving when a friend leaves the church.
The apostle Paul so knowingly summarizes gospel ministry: “And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (2 Cor. 11:28).
When pastors’ wives confess in survey after survey that they are lonely, I think more often than not they’re expressing the isolation they feel that is a natural consequence of their hidden vulnerabilities. By “natural consequence,” I mean there are many things that remain under the surface of our relationships because they can’t be explained in words; they can only be experienced by those in our shoes. In addition, there are some things that must remain under the surface—unsaid and unacknowledged—because this best honors God, our husband, and people in our church.
How, then, do we bear our hidden vulnerabilities well?
Editors Note: This is an excerpt from chapter 8 of How to Thrive as a Pastor’s Wife by Christine Hoover, used by permission from Baker Publishing. Christine’s new book is available for purchase wherever you buy books.
Christine Hoover is married to Kyle, who is the pastor of a church they planted in Charlottesville, Virginia in 2008. They have three boys. Christine is the author of several books and Bible studies. To learn more about Christine and her new book for ministry wives, connect with her at her website, on her podcast, or on Instagram.
