To the Pastors’ Spouses (and Those Who Love Them)

The past two years I have adopted a new title: “Pastor’s Wife.” Now, this declaration is a bit odd, because technically I’ve been a pastor’s wife for eleven years. But here’s the kicker: the day my husband was ordained, so was I. I’m a pastor, too.

I’ve now lived in both worlds: pastor and pastor’s wife. Let me tell you, the experience has been drastically different. To all the pastors’ spouses out there, I want to say: I see you.

Let me give some quick background before this gets too confusing. My husband and I served as co-pastors for over nine years. Prior to that, we went through an M.Div. program and worked six church internships together. We’ve been working together in churches for longer than we’ve been married. (And just for the record, because I sometimes get asked: I didn’t simply follow my husband into ministry. I was a ministry major before we met. We each have unique call stories which eventually merged in the model of co-pastoring.)

Two years ago, things shifted. My husband took a call to serve as the lead pastor of a different church, and I chose to stay home full-time with our three small children. This was a very difficult decision for us, but it felt necessary. Our kids were newborn, two, and four, and we were just coming off the pandemic. We were exhausted. But so too was the church where we were headed. They had experienced a few rough years of their own. We knew that both our children and the church would need some extra TLC over the next few years, so we decided to divide the labor. I chose to stay home.

What I didn’t in anticipate in this decision is how vastlydifferent the experience would be entering a church as a pastor’s wife rather than as a pastor. Ever since I was twenty-two, my entrance into churches has been with a résumé and an interview. This sets up certain problems, to be sure, but there are benefits, as well. At least some people know your background—and not just your work history, but also your personality, strengths, weaknesses, the Spirit’s inner workings in your soul.  Because let’s be honest, pastoral interviews aren’t like others. They get really personal really fast.

The pastor’s spouse enters a congregation in a completely different way: she (or he) is known not primarily for who sheis, but rather who she is in relation to another. And while the pastor gets known increasingly more by preaching week in and week out, the pastor’s spouse is known mostly for…. what she wore to church on Sunday?

I feel very fortunate that our new church is quite emotionally mature. As a pastor’s spouse, I have felt incredibly welcomed and cared for. There has been a strong core of people who have worked hard to get to know me for me. One kind soul even purchased a bottle of wine as a gift for just me during the interview weekend, sharing that she was praying for me as I got paraded around like a show pony. She was being funny, of course, but there was a certain truth to her statement. During that long weekend, my husband had hours upon hours of undivided attention to share his thoughts, experiences, and background. I was just, well, there.

But not everyone has this same awareness, especially those newer to the church community. I’ve been called “Mrs. Brandon.” I’ve been asked if I pick out my husband’s clothes for Sunday mornings. (The answer, if you’re wondering, is no. He’s way better at men’s fashion than I am.) Some have tried to bridge the gap by acknowledging, “I bet you do things behind the scenes we don’t know about.” It’s a very kind and well-meaning statement that I do sincerely appreciate. At the same time, I can’t help but think to myself: You have no idea.

You have no idea that I was the one who worked a demanding job for seven years that financially supported both of us going through seminary. (By the way, during that time, it was my husband who faithfully did all the laundry and made all the cookies for church potlucks. His cookies are always better than mine.) You have no idea the ways my husband’s knowledge and skills are ones we both honed together, through hours and hours of study. While other couples take up recreational sports or birdwatching, my husband and I talk theology and church politics. I do support my husband in his pastoring in many ways, but it’s not the way some people assume. 

Suddenly I had new empathy for all the pastors’ spouses I know and love. Have they spent most their adult lives feeling misunderstood, overlooked, or overshadowed by their spouse? In their churches, which are meant to be their spiritual homes, have they felt like second-class citizens? Do they get tired of people talking to them about how well their spouse is doing and how wise and mature he is?

It’s a funny thing, having your spouse and children attend your main work event every single week. I can’t think of any other occupation (outside of professional athlete) that has this same dynamic. Could you imagine your company’s CEO inviting her husband and kids to her weekly staff meetings? It’d be weird. But if this did happen, of course you would tell your CEO’s spouse about what a great job she is doing. It just makes sense.

Genuinely, I am very happy that my husband’s sermons are connecting with people and that his leadership is impactful. I am happy that other people see what I see. Because personally, I think my husband is an all-star pastor. Hands-down, I am his biggest fan.

But I must admit that it gets tiring on Sunday mornings having people praise my husband to me over and over again. It just feels unbalanced. No one is coming over to my house later to tell my husband what a great job I did getting all my kids fed, dressed, and out the door on time. (Truth be told, most mornings I would rather be on preaching duty than getting-kids-ready duty.)

I acknowledge that most of my issue with this dynamic is that it’s never happened to us before. What I’ve now come to appreciate in congregations served by co-pastor couples (at least the churches we served) is that there existed an unspoken rule that you don’t give compliments about one spouse to the other, lest it foster unhealthy competition. Instead, our congregants spoke directly to us (for both positive and negative feedback). I never appreciated how healthy this was for our marriage until the unspoken rule was no longer in place.

Let me also say this: I have no hard feelings to anyone who has ever passed on a compliment through me. Sometimes it’s just not possible to get to the preacher after the sermon. I get that. I also admit that I’m working through my own complicated feelings as I navigate this shift from Pastor to Pastor’s Wife. But I am choosing to share my experience because I imagine other pastors’ spouses have similar feelings.

Though I’ve been friends with many pastors’ spouses over the years, and have heard many stories, I have now walked in their shoes. I now know what it feels like to go to a dinner with church folks, where 90% of the questions are directed at your spouse. I now know what it feels like to walk into a social function, and someone excitedly waves and shouts, “There’s our pastor!”, while I simply tag along, largely unacknowledged, like an accessory.

This hasn’t happened to me a lot. But it’s happened enough times for me to feel the sting. And my heart breaks for all the pastors’ spouses who have felt this sting so many times that they’re now numb to the pain.

One pastor’s wife confided in me that she has grown to hate weekends because she has to fight with her teenagers every Sunday morning to go to church so that her husband doesn’t look bad not having his family in attendance. The teenagers regularly protest: No one else has to go to their Dad’s work, so why do we?! One pastor’s husband told me he no longer enjoys holidays, because while his wife is busy at work on Easter morning, Christmas Eve, and Christmas morning, he has to do all the holiday festivities with his young girls by himself. Another pastor’s wife shared that while she was supporting her husband through a period of major doubt, she had to sit through each sermon, pretending that he actually believed all that he was saying (and then receive the sermon compliments afterward!). And of course, I remember vividly Eugene Peterson’s admission that he tried to quit his job after missing some 30+ (or even 40+?!) bedtimes in a row with his kids. (My goodness, his wife was a saint!)

I have deep appreciation for the Christ-like role so many pastors’ spouses fill, serving faithfully and quietly, often unseen in the background. But I also know how important it is to feel seen and known, and even sometimes to have your sacrifices acknowledged, at least by some in your church community. I feelgrateful to have that in our church. But I know not all pastors’ spouses do.

I don’t like to give unsolicited advice, but here I’ll break my own rule. If you know a pastor’s spouse, check in with them. Give honest space to share. They might be bearing more than you know. Pastoring can be a very hard and demanding job. I know. I’ve been there. But I’ve also come to learn that being a pastor’s spouse brings unique challenges of its own, burdens often not known or understood.

To all the pastors’ spouses out there: I see you. God sees you. You are not alone.