Women of Wisdom Who Influenced My Life – Part 2

Rumor had it that our pastor and his wife would be coming up to our summer youth camp for the day. This would be an opportunity to see my pastor’s wife in a different setting than at church. My family attended a very large church in south Florida with several thousand members. In my eyes, my pastor’s wife was like the “queen” of the church, the “first lady” of the congregation. She always appeared so elegant and refined. She was very quiet and reserved, and I really did not know her on a personal level. So this would be an opportunity to see what she would be like outside of the church – in a rustic camp setting with mosquitoes and woods and screened-in camp buildings. My youth pastor’s wife wore jeans, went swimming with us, and waterskied on one ski. She was fun to be with, just hanging out with us because it seemed like she actually enjoyed being with us. She would laugh until she cried or worse, but I could never imagine our pastor’s wife having as much fun or being as relaxed as Pat was. I hoped I would get to say hi to her when she came, although I was really quite shy and not sure I would have the nerve to actually go up and talk to her.

I was hanging out with my friends near the lake when I saw her. She was wearing her dignified looking dress, pantyhose, and high heels, walking toward the dock and then stepping gracefully into the boat. How did she do that? How could I ever be like her? She was so perfect! So dignified. So sophisticated. I could never be like her!

By the time I got to high school, my family moved from south FL to NC, and I mourned the loss of my life at my church and school in the Miami. I felt lost in this completely different culture in the mountains of NC.

For a while our family lived in a rural town of about 1,500 people, where we attended a very small, country church, probably no more than eighty people in attendance. The pastor’s wife was nothing like my pastor’s wife in FL. She was a busy mom of four, a full-time public school teacher, and not at all sophisticated, maybe even a little unkempt. She was from Pennsylvania, a place I had never been and had a strange accent that seemed weird to me, although not as weird as the NC mountain accent. She was the total opposite of my genteel, reserved southern pastor’s wife in FL. This pastor’s wife was more outspoken and always on the run, not anything like I thought a pastor’s wife should be like, based on my naive childhood experiences…And her house was old, kind-of-run down and messy. I know this because her oldest daughter was my age. We became friends and attended school together. Their house was totally not what I thought that a pastor’s home should be like. I wondered about this small town pastor’s wife and why she didn’t know things like this about being a pastor’s wife. I just didn’t understand her at all!

We didn’t stay long in this small mountain community before moving to Asheville, where we attended another church. This church was much bigger in comparison to the little church we had just left, but much smaller than my FL church. But it was good to be back in the city, even though a small city and even though I had to live through the cold winter with snow. Nothing like Miami or Hollywood, Florida, where I had come from, but the church was definitely a little closer to what I was used to. Right from the start, we began attending Temple Baptist Church on the main street going into town. The church sat high up on the hill above Patton Avenue, overlooking the K-Mart parking lot down the hill off to the right. Above the church was a large car dealership with a gigantic Indian statue standing tall, marking the location, a landmark beckoning people to come and buy a car. Whenever you needed to give someone directions to the church, all you had to do was mention that giant Indian. Everyone knew where the Indian was. (Kind of like Mr. Bill’s down Route 73 on the way to the Jersey shore.) The church was a large brick traditional structure and inside the auditorium, I finally felt like I had come home. I loved my new church. The pastor had a Hispanic name and spoke with a bit of a Hispanic accent, which after living in Miami with Cuban neighbors and a best friend from Puerto Rico, made me feel like I belonged. It took me forever to remember how to say my pastor’s last name. It was a name I had never heard before. A few years later I learned that there were only twelve families in the US with that last name. I recall sitting in the service each week for months, reading the name in the bulletin, and racking my brain trying to remember how to pronounce it.

The pastor’s wife was a very quiet and reserved lady from Wisconsin, but she was warm and had a sweet smile. She sang in the choir and sometimes she played the piano for the services. She had one little boy at home and two sons in college. Her daughter was married and had two little girls of her own. Her husband was in the Navy and they lived in Jacksonville.The pastor was an excellent preacher with challenging sermons, studying through books in depth. I especially remember the book of Romans, which he began preaching through on Sunday nights soon after I came to the church. When I came home from college after my freshman year, he had only gotten to Romans chapter eight. He stayed in chapter eight until I got married a year later, if I remember correctly. But I can quote much of Romans 8 today, mainly because he started each sermon on Sunday night by having us to turn to Romans 8 and beginning in verse one he would begin reading, “There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus…” And so it went.

I learned a lot about what it meant to be a pastor’s wife from observing my pastor and his wife during my final years of high school and into my college years. One lesson I learned was actually from my pastor. One day my sister and I were very upset about something that had happened at church. My sister was younger than me and had a beautiful singing voice. Sometimes she would sing a solo and I would play the piano for her. One day she sang and held the microphone, instead of using the pulpit mike. As it goes in church, for those folks who have attended church for any length of time, people have their own ideas as to what is appropriate in church and what is not. No matter whether it is biblical or not. If people have an idea of what they consider right or wrong, they feel very free to share their opinion and expect your compliance. Asheville was an extremely traditional place to live at the time, and one person thought it was not appropriate for a girl to hold a microphone while singing. I think she implied to my sister that it looked like she was singing in a bar or something. (My sister was thirteen at the time and not at all worldly looking or acting. Michelle was merely holding the microphone so that her voice could be heard.) So of course we were upset and we went to our pastor to talk to him about it. He gave us some very wise words which I have never forgotten and which have been much needed and heeded through many years of ministry. He said,

“Girls, if you’re going to be in ministry, you’ve got to have skin as tough as a rhinoceros.”

Little did I know at that time, that one day my pastor would be my father-in-law and my quiet, gentle pastor’s wife would be my mother-in-law. As much as I had dreamed of being a pastor’s wife, I did not start out married life as a pastor’s wife. But, I do remember my soon-to-be mother-in-law telling me something one day. It was really quite out of character for her to be so open about something like this, because typically she chose her words very carefully. She was a very private person and tended not to say anything that might reveal personal information regarding someone else or even her own her opinions. She did not push her children toward any specific career or academic field, nor did she seem to have pre-conceived notions about what her children might do when they graduated from college. Getting advice from her was challenging, even when I asked directly for her wisdom on a matter, whether it was about raising my kids or how to handle situations at church. She usually listened carefully and responded with an “Oh…” (a Wisconsin thing, I think). I think in her quietness she allowed opportunity for me to answer my own questions. Then she was say something like, “Well, we will pray for you about that.” But this once, she told me something that she had not even told her son. My soon-to-be husband had spoken for a youth meeting or something, and we had talked about how well he did speaking. At that point, she told me that she felt sure that the Lord was going to use him as a preacher or pastor one day. She knew God had a special plan for his life. Since she did not say anything to him about it, I didn’t tell him for many years, until after he became a pastor.

When we first got married, my husband was a Christian school teacher and a coach. He had dreams of becoming a college basketball coach someday. His hero was Dean Smith of University of North Carolina. He learned everything he could from watching Carolina games coached by Dean Smith and attended coaching clinics at UNC Chapel Hill. Joe was really great coach! He could have accomplished his goal of becoming a college basketball coach, but after a few years of teaching and coaching, he came home and told me, “Coaching is not it! I believe God is calling me to preach.” His mother’s prayers and my dream was becoming a reality.

Almost thirty-five years later, I am forever grateful to my Lord for allowing me the privilege of being a part of the Olachea family – being a daughter-in-law of Pastor Joe and Ermina. I learned so much from being part of this loving family for all these years. What an example they were to me in their lives at home and at church. One of the most important characteristics of their lives was their consistency, living exactly the same way at home as they did in public, never putting on airs or being presumptuous. They were humble and they were real. Above all they “put on love” which is the bond of “perfectness” according to Colossians 3:14. Their love was unconditional, as they always accepted everyone right where they were in life, never judging, never condemning, never comparing. I never heard an unkind word come from either of their mouths in all the years that I knew them.

So what have I learned from my amazing, incredible, “perfect”, genuine pastor’s wife/mother-in-law? Here are some things that I learned about being a pastor’s wife:

• The pastor’s family isn’t perfect!
• The pastor’s house is not always clean or neat!
• My pastor’s wife in the small town of NC was really a good pastor’s wife.
• My pastor’s wife in FL was really a good pastor’s wife.
• The book by Dorothy H. Pentecost, The Pastor’s Wife and the Church, published in 1964, is a very negative, eye-opening book. And every prospective pastor’s wife should read it, because most likely your experience won’t be quite so negative as is described here. And then again…maybe it will. In any case, if you aren’t really called to be a pastor’s wife, this will probably give you pause and make you reconsider.
• Every pastor’s wife is unique, with her own set of talents, gifts, and skills.

Some are elegant and fashionable. Some wear jeans and t-shirts. Some play the piano. Others sing. Some are great teachers. Some are not. Some take care of the nursery. Most of us just love people, most of the time. Some are serious. Some are funny. Some are great housekeepers. Others (like me), not so much. Some work outside the home. Some work at home. All work…a lot. Some homeschool their children. Others send them to a Christian school…or to a public school. Some don’t have children, and they may struggle with this, except that most likely people in their church won’t know how hard it is for them. Some are outgoing. Others are quiet. There is not “the perfect pastor’s wife.” We are all human and we all “stumble in many ways” as we read in the book of James. But almost all the pastor’s wives I know desire to please the Lord more than anything else.

• You don’t have to do everything people expect you to do. Just be yourself.
• Love your husband.
• Love your children.
• Love people.
• Above all, love Jesus.
• Know your spiritual gifts and use them.
• But also know your limitations.
• Accept yourself.
• Be faithful!

My pastor’s wife/mother-in-law was one of the most faithful, godly women that I ever met. I miss her more than anyone could ever know. She was like a mom to me, and she was my role-model.

• Pray always. Pray without ceasing. Pray about everything.
• Stay in the Word!

I cannot think of a morning when I was at the home of my mother-in-law and father-in-law, that they both did not have their Bibles open reading God’s word, with a cup of coffee, and praying for their family. Mom’s Bible was open at the dining room table. Dad’s light was on long before daylight at his little “office” under the stairway in the basement, and later in the morning at his place on the opposite end of the table from Mom.

• Being a pastor’s wife is sometimes hard and sometimes very lonely.

Other people often have more difficult circumstances than me. And many times, they are more alone than I am. It’s important to recognize this, and instead of feeling sorry for myself, I need to get up and help someone else to know they are loved.

• Being a pastor’s wife might mean living far away from family.

Adopt friends who love you, no matter who they are, and let them be your family. God brings these good gifts into our lives as His blessing to us. A dear lady named Joyce at our first church in NC “adopted” our little ones one day each week, so I could help Joe at the office. For many years she sent letters, cards, and gifts to our children as they were growing up. She loved our kids and she loved us. We missed her so much when we moved away. She is with Jesus now. Then when we moved to NJ, we met Grandma Becky, who for twenty-five years, has been our kids “Grandma” and now Great-grandma to our grandchildren. She has loved us through thick and thin. There are others who have cared much for our family, through the years, and we are so thankful for each one.

• Being a pastor’s wife means you must be willing to go wherever God calls your husband.

My father-in-law asked my mother-in-law to marry him by asking her, “Are you willing to go to Africa with me?” Obviously, she said, “Yes!”

• Being a pastor’s wife means not always having everything new and fashionable in regard to your home, your clothes, your cars, etc.

Dad and Mom inherited lots of furniture from people who were replacing their own furniture and gave it to them. They gave some of the things they were given to us when we got married. They didn’t drive new cars, and my father-in-law wore “dead men’s suits”, which is another story for another day.

• Be generous.

When we were going through their things after their deaths, I noticed a steno pad with notes written in my mother-in-law’s hand. There were lists of bills to be paid, etc. I noticed the income amount for a certain month of the year, which was a much smaller amount than the total in the expense column. I noticed a relatively large donation listed for one of my children’s mission trips. In spite of their own needs, they always gave generously- first.

• Be content with what you have.

My in-laws never asked for anything. It was hard to shop for them at Christmas, because they never seemed to need of anything…They were content with what they had.

• I learned that it’s okay for pastor’s families to use Tide laundry detergent without guilt, even if it costs more than other brands.
• Be strong in adversity.

My in-laws were strong through very difficult times – and they never treated others unkindly, no matter how unkind others were to them.

• Finish well. Die well.

They did both! Mom died in May of 2001 after a long, painful battle with cancer. She died gracefully, in spite of the great pain she experienced. When Mom passed from death to life, we were all around her bed singing, “Great is Thy Faithfulness”. Dad was quiet for a little while and then he said, “Something precious just happened here.” Because Dad knew his Lord Jesus and His words so intimately, he was able to draw strength from the truth and promises He had studied and known for more than fifty years of serving his Savior. In speaking these words, Dad comforted us as well. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 116:15)

 Dad passed away the following year, quietly in his sleep one spring afternoon. My sister-in-law was with him at lunch and got him settled for a nap. She turned on his favorite movie, Saving Private Ryan, and left to go home, just a few minutes from the rehab where he was recovering after a serious fall. Soon after she walked in the door, she got a call that he was gone. Dad had not been well for a long time. He didn’t know that he would probably never walk again or that he would be going to a nursing home. He was not going to be happy about that, and the Lord decided to take him home to his real home instead. Now Mom and Dad are together again with Jesus.

 

I think of my precious pastor and his wife, my dear father-in-law and mother-in-law, every time I hear “Untitled Hymn” by Chris Rice. Each time it plays on the radio I weep openly and then I laugh. Each verse is a chapter in their story, until the verse that goes, “Dance for Jesus, dance for Jesus, dance for Jesus, and live.”. That line makes me laugh. Mom and Dad were conservative, independent Baptists and had attended Bob Jones University and Tennessee Temple University. If you graduated from either of those schools, you didn’t dance – or else you didn’t get caught. As far as I know, they never danced a day in their adult lives, at least not on the outside. I do know that when the joy spilled over in the good things of this life, they certainly rejoiced. But I laugh because I think, “I bet they’re dancing now!” and I can just imagine the scene!

When the last verse of the song begins I cry again, “And in your final hour, you kiss the world good-bye, and go in peace and rest on glory side, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus and live,” and then I smile, because they did “fly to Jesus!” and they are truly living now! Oh, what joy and delight as they rejoice in seeing Him face to face and they both can say, as did the apostle Paul at the end of his ministry,

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

 Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing. (II Timothy 4:7-8)

 

So what did I learn about being a pastor’s wife from those who have gone before me? What does it mean to be a pastor’s wife?

 

 It means to be a true and faithful follower of Jesus. Nothing more, nothing less.