Shalom Existence

So, sometimes I try to think of how being a PK, a pastor’s kid, has affected me. Many times I try to view it as all bad. but I know it’s not. There has been good stuff that has come from it as well. Seeing how open and giving people can be, having the opportunity to meet a varitety of people over the years that walk in the church doors, some that will be there a few months or even years, some that will be around a lifetime. I remember as a child being babysat by older women in our church and taken to Dairy Queen, a big treat for me at 5 and 6 years old. Now I realize that they were probably not getting paid to babysit, and so they were actually spending their time, effort, and money to do these things. I remember one woman, I think her name was Phyllis, that would let me help her make stringed popcporn one Christmas and spend the night. I really really thought I was big stuff- special because I was “hanging out” with someone older and I had a purpose (stringing popcorn is hard work!) She had cookies, hot chocolate, everything just to make me feel special.

As I got a little older it became harder for me. I would make a best friend only to have her gone a year or two later, after their parents had some disagreement with my father over the way things are done in the church. I lived behind the church for 9 years, so it was in reality my entire life. One of my good friends, her name was Autumn, was not allowed to see me at all. Although she lived in the same place, her father would not allow it. I was Phil’s daughter. There are times this has served me well, and other times, as a poorly self-imaged 4th grader, when it did not. I never understood why people left. To me it meant that people did not like us. Now I know that the issues were probably much bigger, but at the time it seemed like we would only get close to people to have them leave. Aaron was another example. His family came to all of our family parties, he taught me how to play video games and get the most out a slip and slide, and then they were gone. I see now that in a lifetime, these situations will happen, people move or friends simply drift apart. But I never really got to say many goodbyes. It never felt official, and I was never given any good reasons. One day, they just weren’t there anymore.

As I grew into my teenage years I had begun a certain protection of self. Not getting invested in every single person that took an interest in my family, making sure I knew that my friendships inside the church would survive outside of the church. I know longer wanted “church” friends. To me, there was no security there. You also learn that there are things that church people don’t like. Especially if you are the child of a pastor. So hiding certain aspects of your life, likes and dislikes, begins to suit you well. Unaware of the mask that most people are most certainly wearing, you begin to feel like maybe you are the only one.

So, now, as a grown woman, I struggle. I struggle to see people leaving churches not as a personal attack, but as a preference or a convenience issue. I struggle to know if people really care about me the person, or are self-serving by serving me, to gain a place of greater importance in the church. Then, there are those people I may want to know but it takes that extra effort because some people just don’t like someone in the pastor’s family knowing that much about them. I envy the people in the church who are “normal.” Who do not have the ingrained sense of looking picture perfect or acting like everything is fine when it isn’t. Heck, I envy Andy, who is able to fully be himself, and people love him (for good reason of course)!

As I am becoming who I was called to be, and listening for God’s direction, I pray that my journey continues, and that I continue to grow. Help me to focus only on what is good, what is from you, and love others with my whole heart, regardless of their situation, for that is what you have called me to do. And also thank you, thank you for the experiences I have had, the wonderful people you have had me meet, and the face of love I have seen more often than any other. Amen.

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