Laila Did Not Marry A Pastor
Laila did not marry a pastor. She married a restless soul. My yearnings were to see the world. To travel. To explore. To love God. To adventure. To tithe. To support a local church. To be a good right arm for a pastor.
Before marriage I came within a three-cent postcard of joining the Merchant Marines. Having hitchhiked from North Carolina to Mexico, I decided that when the moped (top speed 35 MPH) and I had crossed the desert back to Corpus Christi, TX, if I had not heard from Mom and Dad, I would join the Merchant Marines. A three-cent postcard from Mom was waiting at my brother Jim's home.
Home. I wanted to go to a Lutheran College that offered a journalism degree. Dad said he would only help pay for college if I went to Lee College (now University). At Lee I met Laila!
Seven years after marriage I had been a school teacher in public schools, advisor for troubled boys' club, editor of college newspaper, writer/reporter for federal OEO poverty project, contractor (paint and carpentry), social worker, evangelist, houseparent for an orphanage home, etc. We had moved 13 times.
Laila looked at me and said: "Will you ever settle down?"
"Probably not," was my answer.
Only pure love for me kept her hopes up. We were poorer than "Job's turkeys." Moving will keep you poor.
I had taken the federal exam for FBI and scored positively. My intention was law enforcement-part of my academic background.
Laila said: "Why don't we go talk with the Bishop about a church?" I knew she was desperate if she was asking to be a pastor's wife.
I thought to myself: "OK, We will go see the Bishop. But I will negotiate the process and make sure that nothing happens."
After about an hour the Bishop said: "Well, you seem like a fine young couple. But I have nothing to offer. However, there is a little church with a nice parsonage in Southwest Virginia. I am probably going to close the church and sell it. You two need a break. I will arrange for you to get away for a weekend. Stay in the parsonage and rest. I will contact the Clerk of the church. If anybody shows up on Sunday you can preach."
Seventeen people showed up in a terribly ugly building. Seventeen good people. With my mother-in-law we made 22.
We saw the Bishop in the parking lot at the State Office on Monday AM. I did not know when he approached our car that I would say "YES" for my family to become a pastor's family. But I did.
My dad was a pastor. Laila's dad was a pastor. Yet, when the mantle fell on my shoulders it was new to me. One of my biggest surprises was to learn that lots of what a pastor does is procedure. Some things work for a while. Then they don't work. I also learned that some good things don't work for lack of a good plan and good people to execute the plan.
I learned that some things don't work at one time, but they do work at another time. Some things work in one church, but not another.
I learned the work of a pastor is never done. Expectations of parishioners and the pastor are not always consistent. That investment in some people must be done for Jesus, because there will be no return from the individual. I learned that getting shot goes with the turf, so it is a good idea to carry your own cotton to stuff the holes. I learned that the sweetest reward of being a pastor is to see individuals come to Jesus, be discipled, and assume leadership on the front line.
After about 20 years of being a pastor's wife, Laila looked at me one day and said: "I think I am beginning to understand. There will always be something happening."
"Yes," I said. "Always."
Last week we lost a precious brother. After the Memorial Service Laila and I made last-minute reservations to fly to California. We received a call that her birth mom had only hours/days to live. This will be the sixth parent Laila has lost. We flew home Saturday night and on Sunday had two services with Sunday Bible Study in between, an Elders' meeting at 2 PM, and a memorial service for another dear parishioner.
Yes, My Friend, there will always be something. Life is not a stagnated pond with lily pads and frogs croaking. The stream is flowing. The water is fresh. God has fulfilled my wildest dreams of seeing the world, loving people, and having adventure. There is always something exciting.
While in California with Laila's birth family we sat and talked about where to have final service for Mom Elsie. Her home church was preferred. We found it. The pastor was there. The small congregation has struggled with remodeling. Inside a section of drywall had not been finished. Walls needed finishing, sanding and painting.
My brothers-in-law and two nephews and I came upon a plan. Sisters-in-law bought work clothes for me at a thrift store. We purchased supplies, including paint, did mud work, sanded, and painted left and right walls of the sanctuary, cleaned up, vacuumed and left in an afternoon. It was an adventure. We loved encouraging the pastor. We felt good about the congregation coming in Sunday and being encouraged. And, we imagined Mom Elsie would say: "Boys, you sure did make my church look beautiful!"
My Friend, I hope that you see life as an adventure. You will pass this way but once. Look around you at what God is doing and be amazed. See the beautiful stories in lives of others. Rejoice for your salvation. Do not let circumstances confine you to a miserable existence. Happiness is a choice. Attitude is what you do with circumstances that you cannot control. There is always something.
Laila did not marry a pastor, but she is happy to be married to one. I thank God for calling me to serve. And for giving me someone who enjoys serving with m.
Take a little time. Sit down. Think it through. God is good. He is faithful. Tell God you are glad He has included you in the Church. Fast and pray. God is not through yet. Adventure lies ahead!
Pastor Bare
Isaiah 44:3