By Glenna Marshall

From where I sit, most of my ministry as a pastor’s wife has been unseen. If you asked church members what it is that I actually do, they’d likely reply with the things that are visible: I play the piano every Sunday, I volunteer at our weekly outreach program to kids in our community, I get the bulletins ready each week. Simple, visible stuff.

By Gillian Marchenko

I’ve battled mental illness for the tenure of my husband’s ministry career. I support him in his endeavors and participate in various ministries at church. I facilitate Bible studies, greet people on Sunday mornings, assist with children’s church, and am involved in discipleship relationships. Except when I’m depressed. Then I’m suddenly absent.

By Kellye Carmack

How will you get up on Sunday morning and serve your church when you are hurting? God is a rescuer, He wants to rescue you. Before you decide to give up, call out to Him for help. He can give you strength and endurance to faithfully serve in the hardest of places.

By Glenna Marshall

There is a certain extent to which you can be sure that ministry will be lonely. And yet, I think most of us in ministry don’t necessarily want to quit because of that loneliness. I truly don’t want my husband to step away from ministry; I love that we get to serve the Lord in the local church. The joys of ministry outweigh the wounds. But the wounds do hurt. So, how do we serve Christ when we feel that persistent ache for friendship? Here are some things I’ve learned in my own ministry as well as from other, more experienced pastors’ wives.

By Glenna Marshall

Throughout my seventeen years as a ministry wife, I’ve handled my discouragement in some unhelpful ways. At times, I’ve withdrawn from my church, ranted inwardly, and succumbed to bitterness. None of those actions have served to rouse my affections for Christ or His Bride, so I’ve had to reexamine what it really means to cast my cares on the Lord.

By Brian Croft

Abide with Me was written by 19th century Anglican Minister, Henry Francis Lyte. Apparently, Lyte wrote this moving hymn just weeks before his death and it was first sung at his funeral. This hymn became a sweet balm to my soul in those very difficult, uncertain early years of ministry. It so beautifully reminds us of two important, timeless truths about God.

By Cara Croft

My prayer for you, dear reader, is that this hymn [It is Well] can be a source of comfort, encouragement and a prayer for us all.

By Kellye Carmack

The hymns we sing in our childhood — and the ones you teach your children— plant a seed that can produce fruit throughout our lives. “Great is Thy Faithfulness” has helped me bear the fruits of love, joy, peace, and faithfulness even when the season I’m in feels barren and dry. Singing hymns can spur us on in perseverance as they draw our wandering minds back in the direction of trusting and following God.

By Glenna Marshall

I remember the first time I heard the song, “He Will Hold Me Fast.” I remember because I wasn’t playing the piano that Sunday morning at church, which was unusual. I’ve played the piano nearly every Sunday morning for fifteen years at the church my husband pastors.

By Cara Croft

Silence. That is my answer. I am afraid of silence. Not my own silence, but silence from God. What if I get alone, I sit quiet all day, and when the time is up I find God has been silent too? What if I go into solitude hoping to find God in a deeper way and do not find Him at all? What if all the things I fear about God is what I experience?

By Kellye Carmack

A friend recently shared with me that she had grown complacent in her prayer life. Where she once felt a passion and excitement for prayer she now felt tired and unmotivated. Knowing that prayer is pivotal for her ministry and personal growth she was desperate to get out of what she called a “prayerless rut”. “What do you do,” she asked, “when you don’t feel like praying?”

By Glenna Marshall

Our church ministry was tough from day one. We had no idea what we were doing, and we had walked into quite a difficult situation. What followed were a dozen broken years. It seemed that everything we touched failed, that every hope for the church was met with resistance and criticism, and I struggled with chronic loneliness.

By DeAnna Gibson

I remember ministry before Autism. Mostly well-curated, carefully unveiled at my own discretion, I hid most flaws and inconsistencies better left unseen. It would take a few years beyond my son’s diagnosis to begin relinquishing my need to be seen in a certain light as a mom and ministry wife, and to willingly be on display for Jesus and His purposes in me and my son.

By Cara Croft

The teenage years are messy. They are messy physically and emotionally. Teenagers want to have their own style, their own friends, and their own opinions. It is a time where they are gravitating towards friends and away from us. It is a time when they are trying to figure out who they are and what they believe apart from us. It is a time filled with fear, anxiety, and turmoil for all of us. This is why it is messy.

By Glenna Marshall

What we get, in parenting, are human children who struggle with sinfulness and obedience just like we do. It’s humbling to be the mom in the grocery store whose kid is wailing with all his might while demanding the Spiderman toy you refused to buy. You can feel every eye on you as you try to diffuse the situation without melting into the floor. Even worse if it’s a church sanctuary instead of a grocery store!

By Kellye Carmack

After years of trying, my husband and I were still childless, and I was dragging myself through another Mother’s Day without children. I left that day feeling both the grief of my empty womb and the love of God through His people.

By Glenna Marshall

It’s been a strange, stressful three months for the church. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that we were not meant to be apart. Three weeks ago, our church began meeting in the parking lot—first in our cars and then in lawn chairs. That first week in the parking lot, I heard the distinct voices of my church family as we sang “The Doxology” at the end of the service, and tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t sing around the knot in my throat. On March 15th, a reprieve from church felt a little like a vacation following some ministry burnout. But, standing in the shade of the big trees in front of our church building so many weeks later, I listened to the voices nearest me, and I realized why even an outdoor service felt like a gift all these weeks later: we were meant to be together.

By Kellye Carmack

Pastors want to be faithful with the work that has been entrusted to them but many times this desire to be faithful is met with conflicting views of their plans and decisions. Those expectations can feel like added weight as they try to move forward. Expectations from the church often also extend to the pastor’s wife. Though there is no specific biblical role for her, she likely feels there are specific standards she must meet. Few other careers go as far as ministry in putting pressure and expectations on the whole family. That includes the pastor’s kid.

Churches have varying expectations of their ministry wives. And dear ministry wife—because you’re just one person, you’re going to fail to meet the myriad of expectations that an entire congregation of people have for you. The fear of becoming a failure in their eyes or of somehow damaging your husband’s ministry can weaken your resolve to set healthy boundaries for you and your family.

“It feels like heavy weights pressing down on my shoulders.”

“I would describe it like rope tied tight around my chest making it hard to breathe.”

“To me it is like rocks just sitting in my stomach.”

As I talk with pastor’s wives these are some statements I hear when they are describing the weight of expectations being placed upon them. Honestly, these are some of the words I have used to describe the same weight I often experience.