May the glorious power of our risen Lord
rest on you as you lead in worship today.

His death brought our redemption.
His life gives us hope.
His presence is with us always.

Happy Easter

Easter Hoppers

"Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."

That's what my grandfather said preachers should use as a sermon text when they behold the congregation in their Easter finery!

The Easter phenomenon is about to take place. Like tulips finding out that there is life above the ground, many people suddenly discover that there is still a church in town and decide to make their Easter appearance.

Similar to Easter bunnies, they hop in, sniff the air a bit, and settle down for an hour. Then, with a twitch, they scuttle back out into the big open world.

Like all of you, we're glad to take the "hoppers" when they come. But how much better it would be if they could understand that all the carrots Satan dangles before their nose are nothing compared with the garden of God's grace available all the time. And He doesn't tease us with grace -- He gives it abundantly. That's certainly a better existence than dodging Mr. McGregor's pitch fork throughout life! (maybe you better re-read The Tale of Peter Rabbit......)

Sunday Dinner -- the Zenith of Parsonage Meals

Somewhere in the annals of Christendom, it was decreed that Sunday dinner was to be the best meal of the week. And all the preachers eagerly agreed.

As long as I can remember, Sunday dinner was always a big deal. I remember hearing family members talk about Sunday dinners of long ago (and how they had so many guests that the children, who ate last in those days, would often only get the pickin's). I recall many a Lord's Day where we gathered around my mother's fabulous homemade meals, always with hot yeast rolls and many times, steaming mashed potatoes. These times were warm, seeming to enfold my brothers and me in the embrace of our parents, our Heavenly Father, and the assurance that there was food from Mom's kitchen and a bright future for us all. Sometimes the district superintendent and his wife were visiting our church and the table was extra special and there was a luscious dessert as well.

There were other days when our church work placed us in revivals/campmeetings on Sundays or maybe it was one of those Homecoming Sundays in the South. On these grand occasions, we shared Sunday dinner with other families in "dinner-on-the-ground." Maybe it was a dining hall, maybe a picnic shelter, or maybe just folding chairs in a circle and some tables holding foil-wrapped casserole dishes -- but, however it was presented, it was always the very best every family could offer. Each cook usually brought her signature dish -- baked macaroni and cheese or fried chicken or pecan pie or chocolate cake. If it was the home church, you knew what to look for -- "Did Sister Jones bring her cornbread salad today?" The men loaded their plates and, with looks of bliss, retreated to their chairs to eat with the other husbands, who cared more for what their wives had cooked than for conversation. The women pulled back plastic wrap, stirred up the vegetables, shooed the flies, corrected the children and asked for each other's recipes while they ate, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing (women multi-task everywhere!) The children ate as little healthful food as possible, sneaked rolls, and gorged on desserts in this heavenly freedom from the "clean plate club." Church dinners are a glorious institution.

These days, dinners on Sunday are still a reason to celebrate:
~ the grace and goodness of God and the sacred day He has given to us
~ His provision of food and the skill to prepare it
~ the gift of family and friends who share the meal

It is true that one does not need to indulge in a bountiful Sunday meal to make the day special. In fact, the cook might be more rested if she served soup or sandwiches. But, the tradition of saving the best for the Sabbath seems somehow appropriate. Traditionally, we have worn our best clothing on Sunday and reserved our best behavior for the sanctuary (at least we teach our kids this!). It just seems to make sense that we share the grandest of our culinary efforts with our families on the day we also give our best worship to the Father. It fits. And be it roast beef or chicken or meatloaf, it tastes great when Dad says the Sunday blessing and little hands that drew pictures in Sunday School now are folded for a quiet moment. Mom breathes a sigh or relief -- another Sunday triumph.

The Game of Pastoring

Being in ministry is like a shelf of board games. If you're tired of the one you're playing, sit tight, the next one is about to start..........

Sometimes, it's a game of Scrabble where you're trying to find the right words.

Other times, you feel like you're playing Guesstures and just going through the motions.

There are days when the church resembles a Checker board with everyone jumping around.

And there come days when the game of Taboo would most accurately describe your mood.

Well, some weeks, it seems like you're playing a round of Clue, searching for the answers.

We all dread the times when it seems like checkmate on the Chess board.

And, above all things, we dislike the days when the parsonage feels eerily like a game of Battleship, with missiles spraying the water all around us.

Thank the Lord there are those refreshing times when the pastorate really does remind us of Candyland -- a place of sweet rewards and victories.

The greatest aspect of it all is that God holds all the gamepieces in His hand. And He knows all the strategies we need to stay in the game. In the end, He gives the crowns.

Life with the preacher

It's different for ministry wives.

We don't wave him off in the morning and welcome him home in the evening. Our husbands pop in unexpectedly, sometimes with a request, sometimes for lunch, sometimes to work from home or change clothes for the next appointment.

We don't sit beside him in church on Sundays and look over his shoulder while the pastor reads the text. We sit in the second row and smile up at him, because he is the pastor.

We don't have him to do chores around the house on Saturdays. The weekend is "crunch time" and preparing for Sunday takes precedence.

We don't have cozy, carefree evenings. There are board meetings, visits, late-night study sessions, and occasionally, emergencies.

It's different for ministry wives.

We don't have to "call the pastor." He lives with us!

We don't have to worry about what to feed the pastor when he comes to visit. He pulls up to our table regularly, and we know his favorites!

We don't have to wonder about the direction the pastor is leading the church into. We have the inside track because we are the pastor's closest confidante.

We don't need to to schedule pastoral counseling. We can just turn over in bed and talk to him. (if he's awake after his long day of ministry!)

Living with the preacher sure is a sweet life. I hope you enjoy yours. Happy Valentine's Day!

Hello, former readers of the PWC Weekly Email....

I know many of you told me how you missed the weekly chat we used to have by email. I thought a blog might be easier for me to manage. I will post as often as possible. If I miss a week, you can check the next. And you can share your comments and tips as well.

This blog is not posted on the blogger list and it is by invitation only. No one who has not been specifically invited will be reading it. This is for us, the group of women who share the lives and ministry of our pastor husbands. This is a safe place. This is a fun place. Here we go!

In a ministry world that seems like a kaleidascope -- ever changing colors and textures -- the pastor's wife needs to wrap her roots around something solid. Even her pastor-husband has evolving philosophies and sometimes erratic moods. The children are growing up, maturing before her eyes. Her parents are aging. Her friends are moving, changing. Trends fluctuate. Styles vacillate. It is a fluid world.

Of course, our Father is our ever-constancy. He gives us.....

1. The solidarity of friends. (let's be here for each other)
2. The tranquility of grace. (His presence and power)
3. The familiarity of family. (there is nothing like your own sofa on a Sunday night)
4. The stability of promise. (He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.)

I thank you for being my loyal and joyful companions. Ministry is a great life. And nothing endures but change.