Monday, May 19, 2008

Proud Little Fish

Those of you who have been here before will find my references to my husband have changed. He will now be known as N. It has occurred to me that I should probably do something to protect my family’s identity somewhat and so the names of my husband, and children have been changed for their safety. Not that I think someone out there is stalking us, but you never know. For those of you who have been here before and now know my husband and children’s names just keep it to yourselves! Thanks!


Our pastor and his wife left on Friday for a 2-week trip to London. (Good for them) Leaving my husband, N, in charge of preaching and all other pastoral aspects of Sunday services for the next two weeks.

So he preached yesterday for the first time since his mother passed away. (It’s been 8 weeks since her accident; I can hardly believe it’s been that long already.) N did AWESOME! He opened with a song. The first time he has sung at the church we are attending now. He did an AWESOME job singing too! There were few dry eyes by the end of the message, and a horde of people surrounding him after to tell N how much they had been ministered to. I was very proud of him. Perhaps I should not have felt pride. Maybe that is not an appropriate feeling concerning preaching about God. I think all N felt was humbled. But I could not help it. As person after person approached to tell me how blessed they had been by the service, my heart swelled. As a matter of fact I think it was something I needed to experience.

You see, for as long as I can remember I told my parents growing up that I DID NOT want to marry somebody in the ministry. I have nothing against pastors. My father is a tremendous pastor, has been since before I was born. I have always been extremely proud of him. But living in a fish bowl is not at all fun. And getting to be free of that one day sounded like a dream. Most little girls dream of growing up, finding prince charming, marrying, and moving off to an enchanted castle. Me, I was perfectly fine with a chubby plumber and a run down shack. Just keep me out of the lime light.

So six years ago I found myself a very attractive carpenter who adored me and I fell madly in love with him. 2 years later we married. We lived a nice and fairly unnoticed life until 2 years ago. My home building sweetheart told me, “I think I am feeling called to the ministry.” In particular he was feeling a nudge towards working with youth. I told him to ignore those crazy voices in his head and lay off the caffeine. Then I watched him fall deeply in love with 4 high school kids as God took us 400 miles from my hometown to be House Parents to foster kids. I saw God use him to touch and help change their lives and it was then that I knew. Dang it, God was indeed calling my husband into the ministry. And so here I am, a pastor’s daughter and youth pastor’s wife. Forever swimming in the crystal clear waters of a humble little fish bowl. And I could not be more proud!

5 comments:

  1. It seems you found N(emo) ... scooped out of 1 fish bowl and baptized into another with 3 guppies in tow. Dad

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  2. the fishbowl is getting a little crowded isn't it. I told you to never say never. I loved your blog today. Does that make me a proud fishy mama?

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  3. This is an awesome post. Just wonderful and touching. Thanks for posting it. I needed a cheer up today. Glad I read it now and I'm glad you and "n" are so happy together doing God's work. Say a little prayer for me today, fishy!

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  4. Daddy, Now I just need to find me a crazy friend named Dori to make this adventure REALLY interesting!

    Mama, Yep, I'm pretty sure you cursed me with that whole, "never say never"
    The fish bowl is also getting VERY murky, I should probably be cleaning it out instead of blogging.

    Lisa, Thanks! You think this was touching you should have heard N's sermon! You're in my prayers today! Hope your day gets better.

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  5. I can understand you being a little paranoid about leaving names on here. I'm the same way. I do use first names, but I'm still too careful to put up any pictures (probably wouldn't matter) and I don't say what town I live in. I guess it can't hurt.

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Thanks for letting me here from you!