A lot of days, being a pastor’s wife is challenging – usually not in big, unbearable ways, but in a whole lot of little ways that pile up over time. The lifestyle certainly is something that requires adjusting to, but really everything unfamiliar to us requires some sort of adjustment.

With Josh doing what he does, there are these moments when the clouds clear and suddenly it all looks beautiful and just right – like a Florida summer sky.

Last Sunday was a typical Sunday – wholly ordinary. Good and challenging and like most every other Sunday. At the end of the service, Josh slipped out from beside me to be present at the altar for prayer and/or counseling. Again, typical. Sometimes I watch him during this time because he’s my man and I like to watch him doing his thing. Last week, he was immediately swept up in talking with and loving on a deaf woman. The translator did come down and help but because God has given Josh a unique desire and ability to know different languages so that HE can communicate with people directly, he knows quite a bit of sign language all by himself.

As he finished up praying with her, an olive-skinned, dark-eyed, weeping woman who had required the help of two other pastors was ushered over to Josh because, as it turns out, she speaks Portuguese, and it took two of them just to figure out what she needed. They ushered her over to Josh, who also speaks Portuguese and has a deeper understanding of her culture and where she’s coming from than the other two pastors do, and he talked and prayed with her freely. No barriers.

I am not sure, but I think that it happened again with a woman who spoke Spanish.

Here’s the deal: the Holy Spirit can do whatever He wants and in no way do I think that the other pastors or even one of us regular Joe’s [PLEASE sense my sarcasm there] couldn’t have loved on those women just as effectively, but on Sunday I was struck. Hearing your own language in a land where you struggle to communicate daily or encountering someone who knows that you do one kiss on the cheek instead of a handshake is like the scent of your Mama’s pot roast smacking you in the face when you walk in the door after church. It is warmth and familiarity and ease and truly the deepest sort of comfort there is. God is all over that because isn’t everyone more likely to have an open conversation when the smell of Mama’s pot roast is wafting around the room?!

Those precious women and countless others are able to get a taste of their Mama’s pot roast because Josh said “Yes” when God asked him to surrender and serve Him in vocational ministry.  I’m so grateful that I get to witness those moments because they help me plug ahead when the little challenges start piling up and I think I might need a break from being  a pastor’s wife for a while.

Told ya’ there’d be a positive one of these bad boys 🙂

Keep on keepin’ it down and dirty. Love y’all like crazy!