3 Things Your Pastor’s Wife May be Too Sweet To Tell You

She probably doesn’t need this, she parked 45 minutes ago…

This post may just end my career as a Pastor’s Wife. Oh wait, it’s a Calling, not a career so…

1)  When you call her on Sunday mornings to ask if your kids can come over (while you go grocery shopping), the silence you hear before she speaks, is her attempt to maintain her composure and not say ‘ARE YOU CRAZY!’

She loves you and your children and will gladly offer a helping hand in times of need.  She left her cozy bed and her family to come to your aid at 1:00am when your daughter threatened to run away.  She prayed and cried with you when you were considering throwing in the towel on your marriage.  She even allowed you to live in her modest home for six weeks rent free while you saved enough money to move into your own place.  Know that she loves you, cares for you and would go to great lengths to exemplify the love that Jesus has for you.  She carries your burdens to the heart of Christ in her prayers, but she is not your babysitter and she is definitely busier than you are on a Sunday morning!

2)  When you hear someone sharply and loudly whispering the following, “Don’t ask me again! It’ll be over when he’s finished preaching!” – It’s probably your Pastor’s wife addressing her own children.

Of course it was her idea to have the children stay in “big” Church and not go to children’s small groups. Just remember, when she has this type of lapse in judgement, it’s your opportunity to see that her children are just as crazy as yours. Her three boys piled into their stinky minivan packed with bulletins, food for the homeless, children’s church stuff and two extra boys from the neighborhood. She also had to go through the same litany of commands you did before leaving the house.

“Leave all nerf weaponry at home, go back inside and change your shirt because you have worn that shirt three days in a row.  No you cannot wear your soccer cleats, go and find your shoes.  Do not do “parkour” on the Church! Lastly, remember why we gather, we are going there to worship God and enjoy each other.”

3)  When your Pastor’s wife is setting up to serve the weekly meal that she and other women spent their morning preparing for their homeless friends in the park, do not curse her out because she may go all ghetto on you!

She may seem mild mannered and saintly but she is no whimp!  Where she was raised disrespect is not tolerated even if the perpetrator forgot to take his meds!  As they said in her hood, don’t start non, won’t be non!  (for those of you who were not raised in her hood, the word that’s missing in the aforementioned phrase,  is “trouble”)  She will patiently bear with all of your quirks and is very forgiving and non judgmental, knowing that she has many quirks and many sins of her own.  But curse her out when her hormones are out of wack and it’s 1991 all over again!  (Those were the days before she was your Pastor’s wife and having a ‘come to Jesus moment’ meant something entirely different.)

Keep her on your heart and in your prayers.  She may need you to ask how you may help her or pray for her even though she seems well able to handle everything that comes her way.  Understand when she does not answer your emails nor return your phone calls right away, she may be counseling the teenager she has taken into her home to keep the young lady from going into “the system”.  When she says no to you and your family she is saying yes to someone elses family or imagine this, to her own family.

Know that you may not be privy to why she makes certain decisions for her family and when there are no good reasons to be found, please extend grace because she too is made of clay.  Before you criticize her, confront her or walk away from her company remember, she is in great need of your love, patience, acceptance and assistance.  Churchleaders.com says that Pastor’s Wives are the most vulnerable people in your Church.  Remember you are on this journey together.

Until next time…Fly high and dazzle ’em!

~The Ringmaster

If you have not yet subscribed to the 3 Bros Flying Circus we’d love to reserve a special seat for you!  Just click the upper right hand corner of the post. 

“Live creatively, friends.  If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived. ~ Galatians 6:1-3 The Message Translation

Advertisements

Grandmas Gone Wild!

“This is EPIC!”  The frenzied proclamation came from one of the 13 children who had just been crushed in back-to-back arm wrestling contests with very a competitive and surprisingly strong seventy-year-old woman.  As Aunt Barbie rolled up her sleeves one of the children yelled “Kick His Butt Grandma!”   These great kids don’t just tolerate their elders, they honor them by enjoying their company, and by rightly declaring Grandma is ‘Legit’ in arm wrestling!

The weekend began with a family reunion which my husband’s annoyingly fit, very organized, and equally fabulous family planned surrounding the local half-marathon.   Family members from 8 to 71 clocked some very impressive times.  Why were they all running so fast you ask?

The night before the big race, the family held an incredibly rowdy Calcutta at the local Country Club (from which we are probably now banned).  The runners, including children, were auctioned off to the highest bidder. The 1st thru 3rd place owners split 90% of the pot.  The remaining 10% of the money wagered was donated to the church of which my husband is Pastor.  I’ll admit, everything about what I’ve just written is probably “all-kind-of-wrong” but, for our family – it works!

Following the post-race awards ceremony, taco truck feast and arm wrestling competition, we hopped into our car and drove down to LA to spend two days with my family.   When mom opened the door we were hit with the fragrance of BBQ chicken, yams, collard greens and green beans. Here lies the difference between my family and my husband’s family.  My family’s gatherings are loosely organized and are anchored by Epic Sunday meals.  We know how to pace ourselves, savor the food and the conversation, embrace the calories, sugar and butter and have a good time together – sedentary and gluttonous with gluten.  The only marathons we enjoy involve third helpings and the television (in which my brother is the master of the remote)!

Two of my mother’s best friends joined us for the feast.  The conversation we were privy to could only come from three African American women in their late 70s who spent their formative years in rural Mississippi and Louisiana.  Mom’s friend Mrs. P lived so far back into the Louisiana woods that it was technically Texas.

The ladies began their conversation espousing the virtues of Blue Bell Ice Cream and freshly gathered Pecans.  They all agreed upon the fact that Black Walnuts freshly fallen from the trees were the hardest nuts to crack but were well worth the effort.

After a few minutes of conversational pleasantries, the country-time smack talk reached its full hyperbolic force.  My mom and Barbara said that their grandmothers burned rags to create smoke to drive away the mosquitoes.  Barbara had fond memories of frolicking in the smoke by jumping thru it.  My mom remembered her grandmother taking a smoking rag and waving it around her head to keep the mosquitoes at bay.  Mrs. P snarled, “Burn rags?! Are you kidding me?”  “We didn’t burn no rags, we had to use our rags to make rag quilts to keep us warm at night.”

Mom, while reflecting upon her favorite country breakfast of smoked ham and grits mentioned the mule which was used to grind the meal.  Mrs. P shot back, “Hummph! What you talking about? Ham for meat?! We didn’t have ham! We were so hungry during the winter, we didn’t use the mule, we ate the mule!”

Mom mused, “what about chickens?  Did your family order chickens from a catalog?”  Barbara said smiling, “Yes, I think they ordered them from the Sears Catalog.”  Mom agreed, “mine too” then added “they had to order at least 100 because some of the chickens wouldn’t survive the bus ride.”  Mrs. P, “what bus ride?” Mom insisting, “You know, they used to put those chickens in boxes with holes in them and load them with the luggage on the Greyhound.”  Barbara nodding, “or the Trailways.”  Mrs. P, “our chickens didn’t get delivered we had to walk to pick them up!”  Mom continued, “after we got the chickens from the Greyhound Bus, we would keep them in the chicken coop so they would stay nice and warm during the winter.”  Barbara, “we did too, until they made a law that made it illegal for us to have chickens.”  Mrs. P: “Chicken coop keeping chickens warm?!  Shoot, we had to tear the chicken coop down and burn the coop to keep the family warm during the winter!  Ain’t no chickens made it through the winter at our house!”

As we left the house, Mrs. P and Barbara chimed with warm smiles, “you guys take care of those handsome boys.” Granny gave the boys big hugs while they loaded the loot she had purchased for them from her local toy store. Breaking the silence within the car as we entered the freeway on ramp, one of the boys remarked, “this was a super fun weekend!”

This comment sincerely spoken from the heart may not be what one would expect to hear from a ten year old boy who has just spent four days filled with multi-generational encounters.  After this weekend, I am convinced that God intended us to live our lives in this manner.  Surrounded by villagers of every age who add joy and value to our lives and whose lives are brighter because we have touched them.

I realize that not everyone has family members who can come together as our families do, but everyone can choose to spend time with those of another generation – family or not.  Who knows, you just might get your butt kicked by a grandma or learn about chickens who ride on Greyhound buses.

Your Granny may not be from the country club or the country, but I’d love to hear about her here.  Leave a comment and share about a story or two about the Grandma in your life!

Until next time…Fly high and dazzle ’em!

~The Ringmaster

If you have not yet subscribed to the 3 Bros Flying Circus we’d love to reserve a special seat for you!  Just click the upper right hand corner of the post. 

“Honor Your Father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”                                                                                                          

~Exodus 20-12

“Why It’s Good to Beat Your Man Every Now and Then”

I know what you’re thinking.  “Why in the world would anyone blog about beating her man?  Has Tracey Goss lost her mind?  Is she taking this ‘Ring Master’ thing a little too far?”  If you are thinking that I am encouraging spousal abuse you are way off, the beat(ing) that handsome hubby just received adds spice to our marriage.  (Stay with me it’s not what you think.  Minds out of the gutter please!)  

When I was growing up, young ladies who wanted to win the hearts of young men were taught to always let the object of their crushes win.  One could keep the game competitive, but in the end she should slightly lift her bow before launching that last arrow, keep the triple letter-word score to herself in Scrabble, or in my case – slow the car down and allow handsome hubby to pass me and cross the finish line first.  If you’ve been following this blog, you should know The Ringmaster doesn’t roll like that!

Growing up in my neighborhood was pretty idyllic if you were a girly-girl who happened to be very athletic.  My neighborhood was filled with boys who did not mind playing with girls who could play.  They loved girls who looked-like-girls but played-like-boys and that was me!  Whipping up on boys was just a natural everyday occasion.

Fast forward to today.  Many of you know about the race challenge written about in “Let’s Get Ready To Rumble”.  Today was the day that my smack talking husband ate my dust! My carefully chosen, sensible route was proven much faster than his susceptible to too many variables – man-route!  After the race, he immediately demanded a rematch – to which I replied NO!!!!  (Don’t worry, no traffic violations occurred and my husband loves it when I show my sassy side!)

I anticipate a very long and very fun life with handsome hubby.  As we grow old together, I am certain we will hobble along in our walkers racing to see who will be first to enter the doors of the “early-bird” dinner.  I will be a serious competitor with feisty flair until the day I die.  That’s how the Lord made me and those are two of the traits that handsome hubby loves about me.  He is very much like those boys in my neighborhood!  He loves a girly-girl who can play, and when he plays with me every now and then it’s a handsome hubby beat down.

Until next time…Fly high and dazzle ’em!

~The Ringmaster

If you have not yet subscribed to the 3 Bros Flying Circus we’d love to reserve a special seat for you!  Just click the upper right hand corner of the post. 

“Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!  Your workmanship is marvelous – how well I know it.”                                                                                              ~Psalm 139:14

Let’s celebrate the quirks and embrace the fact that beauty is not only in the eye of the beholder, it is in the intent of the Creator!