Monday, October 5, 2015
Clergy Spouse Confessions: Spousal Support
Every clergy spouse reading this right now is nodding.
The fall is just BUSY. Busy might be an understatement though. Busy as in, sometimes the person who makes up the clergy portion of the clergy family works everyday kind of busy. I don't mean to lesson the busy-ness of others. And actually, *helllooo hypocrisy* I hate when people talk about how busy they are. I'm lucky enough to have a spouse that isn't a work-a-holic. But busy is just how it is.
I'm not the kind of spouse that is "anti" everything. I'm actually totally into it. I love the Episcopal Church. I'm the one who raises her hand when asked on the spouse retreat, "who's kind of into the whole church thing?" as opposed to raising it for "who wants to just sleep in on Sundays?" So that means that I'm teaching Adult Christian Education every week and leading Children's Chapel here and there along with all of the other things that pop up. Plus I can't stop signing up for things for the fall. What the hell is wrong with me?!
But I'm actually not complaining right now. I kind of like the franticness. Is that sick? I love fall in the clergy family. It's crazy and insane and busy and ministry ministry ministry. And it's an exhausting blur of signups and smiles and love and feeling too tired to function and scheduling days on our calendar that say "family day! nothing else!"
I just need to remember to be better prepared for it. I thought about it this year. In August I filled the freezer with frozen meals and crockpot dinners and muffins. And then I was so proud and excited to be ready for September and October that we ate them all.
And by that I mean we ate them all before life got too busy to deal with dinner.
Crap.
Luckily we (the kids and I) don't have anything that we have to do tomorrow. So Halloween crafting and cooking to refill the freezer are on the agenda. Except just the former and not the latter because I really can't handle going to the grocery store for a third time this week. It is only Monday night after all. And returning library books... we've got to do that for sure. And hopefully go get flu shots. Because dear Lord we do NOT have time for the flu around here.
A few months ago (like last spring) I was thinking about contacting other minister's wives of all denominations in Katy and starting some sort of group. Then I blew it off because, eh. Reasons. Excuses. Life. The usual. Anyway - I guess the Holy Spirit started the group anyway because randomly THREE of us all exercise together at 515 in the morning three times a week. Weird, huh? A methodist minister's wife, an episcopal priest's wife, and a nondenominational pastor's wife all walk into bootcamp... sounds like the start of a lame joke to me.
Thanks to the 515 meeting of my clergy spouse support group I know that I am not the only one who didn't put together the hurricane preparedness kit this year. Whew. Next year... next year...
Saturday, June 20, 2015
Clergy Spouse Confessions
We spent the morning at the deacons' ordinations, and I had a blast. It was holy and lovely to spend time celebrating the ordinands and visiting with friends. We enjoyed a beautiful reception and then went on to a party with great friends. It was a truly great day.
And then we got home and I sunk into such a foul mood that when Chris announced he was going to mow the lawn I screeched, "Oh no you aren't! I am." Because there was no way I was going to let the opportunity to slosh around in the mucky yard pushing a heavy piece of machinery while only its loud buzzing filled my brain pass me by. I needed that blissful alone time to think. And growl. And feel annoyed. Luckily, the Psalmist shows us that this can be prayer too.
So what is it that's so hard about having so many clergy friends?
They are just so darn sure of their role in the Church. They know their place in life and they live it.
And it leaves me asking, "But what about me?"
The clergy have a place and they know what it is. They may have run to it with open arms crying "Here am I Lord! Send me!" They may have hidden or begged off or pleaded "please send someone else." But they know what it is. They get up in the morning and put on those dog collars and head out the door. They felt what they refer to as "the call" and they answered it. Meanwhile the rest of us slug around through life wondering where our places are and how we fit into the life of the Church.
Or maybe not. Maybe you know your place.
Personally, I have some ideas about my place in the Church. Unfortunately, my first choice is an unpaid position and thus not one I will seek to fill. I've already committed to raising two children, and I intend on sending them to college without huge debts accrued. Thus, I will eventually have to find an income once kiddos are in school. In the meantime I'll guess I'll just have to keep floundering and wondering and crying out "where do I fit in?!"
Don't get me wrong: surrounded by our clergy family friends is truly one of my favorite places to be in the entire world. In many ways, they are my people. Clergy family to clergy family: they "get" us. But man, it can sometimes be rough to be seeking one's own place in the Church and surrounded by people so sure of their own.
Luckily, there is always prayer.
And long grass and a muddy lawn and a big loud heavy lawn mower to push around.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Clergy Spouse Confessions
Confession: clergy spouses crave community.
Confession: clergy spouses (at least I have found) seek community with one another.
Confession: clergy spouses fall into two camps. There are the whiners. And everyone else.
Well, that about sums up life as a clergy spouse. Now, bring me a slice of leftover wedding cake and some rum and let's call it a day.
What? You expect some sort of explanation of that? *sigh* Well, alright. I'll do my best.
Confession: clergy spouses crave community.
Well, don't we all? I believe that we (humanity) were created for community. God himself is a triune being who exists as community. Clergy spouses, I have found, often have a spoken desire for community. I don't think it is necessarily a different or deeper desire than that of anyone else, but, in my experience, it is articulated and intentionally sought after. Why this might be the case is open to more speculation and I have plenty of thoughts. Too many in fact to go into here. If you want to talk about it come over and we'll drink coffee or rum according to the time of day.
 |
| Chris' ordination to the deaconate June 2009 |
Confession: clergy spouses (at least I have found) seek community with one another.
This too, is open to speculation and I can only speak to my experience. However, thus far, in my six year tenure as a clergy spouse I have found that other spouses (of any denomination) perk up immediately when they hear about this particular role in my life. I think it has to do with understanding. Everyone wants to feel understood, right? Back to that whole craving community thing. Perhaps clergy spouses crave one another because we "get" each other in a way that others don't fully understand.
I recently became friends with a pastor's wife of a different denomination in town. She told me that I am the only pastor's spouse she knows and said this with an expression of deep relief on her face. I can't imagine what her life has been like until now. Her husband works for what most would call a mega-church. How has she not had anyone to call on days when her entire Sunday morning fell apart due to kids with fevers? Or kids getting too crazy in the pew? How alone has she felt on Sundays when friends have introduced her to new people as "the first lady" (ugh, never do that. We haaaatteeee that)? Who listens compassionately and then tells her to suck it up when her husband leaves tuck-ins to her because he has to head to the hospital? Who helps her laugh through the busy seasons and knows to leave packages of coffee and cookies on her doorstep when she's home alone during all of September, Advent, and Holy Week? Wait... why don't my friends know that?
Yeah, clergy spouses crave community as much as everyone else does. We find it in a variety of places. I am lucky enough to have a truly fabulous community in our church home. I am also lucky enough to have a great support network of spouses to call when (*ahem*) too many people ask me questions that require me to answer laughingly "I don't work here!"
People, seriously! I love you. I really do, but stop asking me these things. I never know! I don't work there!
 |
| Chris' ordination to the deaconate June 2009 |
Confession: clergy spouses fall into two camps. There are whiners. And everyone else.
Isn't this true of everything? I try to fall into the latter camp. One of my favorite friends in the spouse world has been a clergy spouse for 40 years or so. She and her husband married in their twenties and he is now near retirement. Their children are grown and have children of their own. Her attitude is this, "I choose to be happy." Now, isn't that a great outlook on life? Fabulous. She once spoke (spontaneously) at a spouse retreat (yes, we do that) about how her husband can be a bit of a work-a-holic. Truth be told, my husband is not a work-a-holic (thanks Chris, good job!) but all clergy family can sometimes feel like the church is an extra spouse. Anyway, she said that her husband works so much. Her words? "What am I gonna do? I can't change him. Lord knows I've tried! I'm not gonna divorce him. I love him. So, a long time ago I chose to be happy. So that's what I do. I choose to be happy."
Wow, typed out that sounds crazy and unhealthy. But I know her. And it isn't. It's awesome. She decided to accept the things she can't change for what they are and make changes in her own life accordingly. Instead of pouting that her husband was at work (which is sometimes super awkward, "What do you mean you're going to go bless someone dying?! I thought we were going to watch The Blacklist together!") she took on a life of her own. She made a life for herself and enjoys their life together. Certainly something for all spouses (of any occupations) to aspire.
I hear more coffee percolating so there is nothing in the world that is going to keep my hiney glued in this chair any longer.
Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!
Monday, December 29, 2014
On the Fourth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me... Xanax?
But really, in a strange way, isn't that what community is all about?
Some people claim that they don't need to go to church on Sunday mornings because they worship God on their own. I think that's a cop-out. Get your lazy butt out of bed, put on real clothes, and find a community to worship with. Because community is not about the "show" of being in church. And, guess what, community doesn't have to be perfect. In fact, none are.
Having a community means having a group of people there to catch you when you are flailing and rejoice with you when you are soaring. It means having a group of people to surround you as you go through the ups and downs of life. It means having familiar faces to greet you when you are having a morning in which people are tired and yelling at one another. It means that I will see those same beautiful faces next Sunday, when we are (hopefully) more with it and not yelling at one another outside of the church doors.
One day over the summer Chris and I attended a party at which we were the youngest people by about thirty years. And you know what? That was one of the most fun parties I've been to in a long time. Or ever. If we didn't have a church community would we even know people of all ages? Or would we just hang out with other parents in our general age group? I can just picture that now: all parties with children screaming and smearing pizza sauce onto things while the adults zone out in tiredness drinking beer and talking about potty training. Actually, scratch that, when was the last time people in our age group even had a party? We'd all rather put kids into bed and crash on our own couches watching reruns of Friends. Am I right or am I right? Right? Right? Right?
I am thankful that I have a group of people who know me and I know them. They've seen my daughter learn to walk. They've seen her throw tantrums in church, eat more than her fair share of donuts, and sing like an adorable little angel on Christmas Eve. They've seen me wallow in the misery of pregnancy and celebrated with us when our son was born. They've seen Nils as a small nugget riding in my papoose grow into a wild man crawling as fast as possible down the aisle to get to the front and see Daddy.
Yes, I am thankful for community. Nothing could replace the beauty of having a church community to live life with.
...and to help grab the bags when people are getting rained on and just need to get into the building.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Clergy Spouse Confessions
One day recently I was standing in the narthex with a heavy baby on my hip (no offense Monsieur Nils) glancing over the shoulder of the person talking to me (to make sure Carolena was in fact only taking one donut) when I saw Chris. He walked into the Narthex and slipped right into the bathroom. And it was then, in that moment, that I came to understand the feeling of pure unadulterated envy. Ah, to know the freedom of just stopping in a bathroom when one needs. No worries about how to keep a three year old from "touching everything!" and juggle a baby on one's lap while urinating. That, my friends, is freedom.
I once poured old sour milk into my coffee on a Sunday morning. I tried my best to make it work but after several sips just had to dump it. Knowing that there is always hot coffee percolating in the parish hall just gets us to church faster every Sunday morning.
This morning I'm going to remember to pee before we leave the house.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Clergy Spouse Confessions
Recently I washed what I would estimate to be 30,000 white tablecloths belonging to our church. Is that my job? No. Was I happy to do it? Sure. I'm a mom. What's a few more loads of laundry? Like a few more drops to Niagara. Plus, I like helping out in ways that require little more than dumping things into the washing machine, dryer, and then sending them out the door with my hubby. That's easy cheesey. Yumm... cheese...
The laundry around here can get weird though. It seems common place now to search black shirt collars for forgotten collar studs abandoned by their wearer and sure to rip holes in my bed sheets (true story - the hole was totally round like a crop circle).
Black shirts fade to gray and yet continue to fall out of my dryer warm and ready to be hung. No need for ironing work shirts around here.
Albs are a different story. When I head toward our laundry room and see a large white ghost hanging out nearby it I know it's time for the oxiclean. Ring around the collar (eeww - tmi), port wine stains (yummm... wine...), and candle drippings are just a few of the things that can grace the alb. Have you ever ironed a huge tablecloth that has a hood and billowing sleeves? Yes? Great, then you're ready to be part of a clergy family.
Our laundry is never ending. If I were to write one of those online quizzes titled something like, "Are you ready to be a Mom?" one of the questions would be, "To what degree is your sanity based on the amount of laundry you do?" and if people answer in such a way that demonstrates a strong correlation between amount of laundry looming and sanity, I'll recommend they get a goldfish instead.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Clergy Spouse Confessions
But in honor of yesterday...
When you see me on a Sunday morning and I'm wearing a dark shirt with a hole directly over my light colored bra, it's because I didn't notice until arriving at church.
And because some days there isn't enough coffee to get us all out of the house on time and everyone well dressed in clothes that don't have mystery holes that seem to appear right when we get there. There just isn't enough coffee in the world.
When you see me on a Sunday morning and I'm ignoring my children as they crawl all over the back of the church and the three of us take up more than one entire pew and we have toys and books and cracker crumbs everywhere, it's because we are at church all of the time. In fact this might be our third time at church in as many days. We are insanely comfortable in God's house.
And some days I am just surviving.
When my children are giggling and making happy noises (or loud grunting noises as the case may be... Nils we're looking at you buddy...) and you glance over and I seem to not even notice the ruckus my family is making, know that I do notice. I just don't care. At least they aren't fighting or crying. You might mind the noise. I know I have in the past. But in present day I'm just thankful that I'm in the pew (or wandering around somewhere near it chasing a busy crawler). I'm thankful that we're there and I have to leave it at that.
When you see me on a Sunday morning and I am holding a 30lb baby on one hip, have a huge bag overflowing with toys on the other arm, and a three year old clinging to my leg (or running full speed ahead for the donuts), don't wonder why I look frazzled and tired. Please don't ask me a question about what time something starts or what the youth group might be doing at their next meeting. I don't know the answer. I never do.
When you see me on a Sunday morning and I seem distracted or tired or frazzled... it's because I am.
But we're there.
There was a time when I sat in the pews and enjoyed the quiet before the service. There was a time when I knelt during the confession, stood during the creed, and faced the gospel procession. I'd like to say there was a time when I arrived at church in a shirt without a hole but that's pushing it a bit too far, don't you think? It's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Now my worship looks different. It takes the form of holding children and rocking babies. I worship standing more often than not because kneeling with a 10 month old is not feasible. I sing about half of each song but the half that I get to sing is sung loudly and joyfully... and my little grunting Nils sings along. The other half is spent wrangling
I realize that my kids and I are incredibly distracting in church. But, I'm doing the best I can. My worship is that we are there. Nils might not have shoes that fit, Carolena may have crazily ripped out her hairbraid in the middle of the service, and my shirt might have an unsightly hole... but we're there. My worship these days is about presence. When I say to Carolena, "It's Sunday. What do we do on Sundays?" and her resounding happy answer is to cheer, "church!" I know that our sometimes chaotic loud disruptive worship is in fact holy.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Duncan Customary
Okay, with me now?
Then my sister's husband's brother's cat had to go to the vet and the vet's son's mother in law... just kidding...
So, my sister's new rector's wife's blog was great. She explained what a Bishop's customary is - read it here - and created one for her family. Well, how could I not follow suit? Don't you want to make your family's customary too?!
So, without further a do (and yes, it is in fact a do, not adieu), I present to you:
THE DUNCAN FAMILY CUSTOMARY
{trumpeting music, trumpeting music, trumpeting music}
- Thanks for inviting us over! I hope your invitation was for an early time because we like to get our kids in bed around 7, and Casey falls asleep ("I'm not sleeping. I'm reading... err... I just had to rest my eyes for a moment") around 9. Sooooo... if your soiree starts at 9... count us out. Or be smart enough to bring Casey a starbucks coffee earlier that day.
- And speaking of coffee... don't serve Casey coffee. Chris will probably exile you from the church if you serve me coffee anytime after 3 pm and don't plan on staying up with me all night.
- Mmmmm.... coffee.... pardon me while I go refill my cup. Remember the days when I didn't drink caffiene? I call that "the world without Nils, a much drearier place indeed."
- Customary... back to the customary...
- We will bring a toddler to your home. And an infant. So expect some tears and tantrums. It will happen. Get over it.
- Do you have breakable items in your home? Hide them. Casey and Carolena were cut from the same cloth and tend to break things. Usually by accident.
- Please don't force us to be the ones to carry the entire conversation. It's much more fun if everyone participates. Really. If we have to do all of the talking the only things you are going to hear about church or Mount Everest. Although, recently I have also added Weight Watchers, Les Mills, the Little House books, and goblin sharks into my rotation as well. So, yeah, you might want to think of some other conversational topics if none of that interests you. Seriously. However, if any of those topics strikes your fancy, we can chat all night so bring out the coffee!
- As far as food goes, we like it. Food that is.
- You should be aware that the Duncans DO drink alcoholic beverages. We're not so much wine drinkers (Casey because of migraines and Chris for no apparent reason) but give us some good beer, scotch, rum, or bourbon and we're happy campers.
- Speaking of rum, you probably need to know that Casey is part pirate.
- Not kidding on that pirate thing.
- Really, a pirate.
- Since Casey is a pirate don't sit by her if cuss words hurt your ears or the sight of someone drinking rum makes you nauseous or you abhor people who have a wooden peg leg and an eye patch. In fact, if any of those things bother you, just forget about inviting us over. Save yourself the agony and don't do it.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Clergy Spouse Confessions: Holy Week 2014
Carolena got a cold last Thursday and has spent everyday since then with her face completely covered in snot.
Carolena picked out books at the library for us to read before bed this week... so we've been spending each evening (and naps) reading three books about Christmas.
This morning at her school Easter Party, one of Carolena's teachers said to her, "Happy Easter!" to which Carolena replied, "It's not Easter. It's Lent."
Our heater decided to run cold air without ceasing (even when switched to an off position) and our dishwasher refuses to turn on.
Tomorrow we need to dye Easter eggs, clean the house, go to church, and get to Kroger all before nap time. This in addition to nursing Nils, changing multiple diapers, and, of course, hand washing the dishes.
It's Maundy Thursday. Chris is at church. The kids are both in bed. I'm avoiding the pile of dirty dishes and ironing by wearing my pajamas and watching Shark Tank.
Happy Holy Week from the Duncans!
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Just Another Frantic Sunday
I was just in the middle of a dream
I'm awakened by a hungry baby
and the noise of a toddler's screams
Gotta get two kids ready
Faces washed, bodies dressed, bellies fed
These are the days
When you wish you could just stay in bed
It's just another frantic Sunday
I wish it were Friday
'Cause that's our Saturday
My hubby's "I don't have to work day"
But it's just another frantic Sunday
Gotta jump into the shower
And maybe do my makeup while I nurse
And if I had another arm
I could stop the toddler goin' through my purse
It takes me so long just to figure out what I'm gonna wear
Think I'll just throw something on
Cause it'll soon be covered in spit-up and cat hair
It's just another frantic Sunday
I wish it were Friday
'Cause that's our Saturday
My hubby's "I don't have to work day"
It's just another frantic Sunday
Of all the mornings
Why does it have to rain right now?
We're soaked but finally in the Narthex
On time but don't ask me how.
Doesn't even matter
Just need to get into my pew
Lord Almighty, now where is my toddler's shoe?
It's just another frantic Sunday
I wish it were Friday
'Cause that's our Saturday
My hubby's "I don't have to work day"
It's just another frantic Sunday
Friday, February 28, 2014
Clergy Spouse Confessions
What Not to Say to Your Pastor's Significant Other
{the cdunc rewrite}
What not to say: "Are Roman catholic priests allowed to get married?!"
Nope. Now, isn't this awkward? We also have two children together... bow chica wow wow. Oh, and we're not catholic.
What not to say: "Want to come over and watch football?" or "What did you think of that game?"
Hmm... perhaps that one is specific to THIS clergy spouse.
What not to say: "Do you know where the church's _____ is?"
Nope. I don't work here. Don't ask me. Unless of course you are looking for the church's can opener, in which case the answer is "currently there is one in my kitchen. I broke mine and Chris was ordered to bring one home so I could finish dinner." OR if you are looking for the church's stash of rum. In that case, the answer is still "no" - but ask me anyway because I sure as hell want to know where it is if that exists!
What not to say: "I made a coat out of dalmatians" or "I have herpes" or "I eat live worms."
Keeping something "under the stole" doesn't work with me. I don't wear a stole, and I didn't take an oath to keep your secrets. If you're going to tell me a secret you should specify it as such.
What not to say: "You look a bit tired around the eyes."
Okay, this one actually happened to me. That has nothing to do with being the priest's wife. Just don't say that to anyone. Really. The person may as well have said, "I just loved you in the Addam's family movies! The way you put that light bulb in your mouth and it lit up! Fabulous!"
What not to say: {With an air of mixed horror and respect} "You are like no pastor's wife I've ever met!"
Just kidding! Definitely say that! That one actually happened to me too and it was awesome.
Moral of the story: say whatever the hell you want to the pastor's spouse. Say whatever you want, but just bear in mind, if you aren't polite and courteous, I don't have to be either (but despite my Syltherin tendencies I probably will be. I wasn't rude to the Uncle Fester commentator so... that's impressive). Also, I have no idea where to place commas in that last sentence. Tricky little buggers.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Clergy Spouse Confessions: Social Norms
Yes, we drink. In fact, sometimes we drink a lot. I would bet money (yes, bet money) that at a priest friend's wedding last year the clergy couples consumed more alcohol than his old frat brothers (I accidentally typed "fat brothers" at first - Freudian slip?). I'm not bragging or complaining here. Just stating the facts. Jesus drank. We drink. Jesus was in fact frequently accused of being a "drunk" sooo... yeah...
Yes, we can be fun. We recently attended an event that had an oh-so-popular-right-now photo booth. Evidently people were thrilled and surprised that Chris and I got in it. Really? Well newsflash people: we also dance! Not well mind you, but we dance nonetheless. And, just to clarify, I don't mean dancing with long ribbons to church music.
Yes, we cuss. In my house - not excessively, but really, a good cuss word goes a long way when used at just the right moment. Sometimes I may or may not cuss during my girls' bible study at church... or when teaching Sunday school... it happens. Or should I say sh*t happens?
Yes, we talk about things other than church. Okay, so our families might not believe that one, and sometimes I find it hard to believe as well. However, we have other interests beyond the walls of our church. What are they you ask? Hmm... well... I'll uhh... let's see... there's um... and the... I'll get back to you on that.
Now excuse me while I go look up the words to my favorite Thanksgiving hymn to hang on the hymn board in our kitchen. If only I were joking...
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Clergy Spouse Confessions: The Wedding Date
I can't imagine how shy clergy spouses cope.
Cons of going to a wedding as the priest's date:
- You have to arrive incredibly early. This means it will be family of the bride & groom, wedding attendants, people working at the wedding (including your date), and... well... you. Awkward old you. You'll get to stand around wondering if it would be rude to pull out a book and read while everyone else is hustling and bustling.
- When it comes time to finally find a seat for the ceremony you'll have to face that inevitable question from an usher, "bride's side or groom's?" Uhhh... well... ahem... what are their names again? I recommend sitting near the back on the bride's side of the aisle. I used to think I should sit on the groom's side because it usually includes less people and I figured my presence would add another body, but then I realized it's easier to blend in on the bride's side. One bonus of sitting by yourself at a wedding: people will assume you've saved the seat next to you for your date and give you a little extra room - a definite perk when sitting in those narrow white wedding chairs.
- You'll have to wait around while the wedding party takes pictures. If you're lucky they'll quickly get the ones with the priest out of the way and you'll be able to head up to the reception.
Pros of going to a wedding as the priest's date:
- Your date will be one of the best dressed. No, really, I'm serious. Your date will look classic in clericals and a suit and you won't have to worry about him looking like some yahoo wearing an out of season jacket or clearance rack tie. "Does this black shirt go with my white collar?" Yep. It does.
- No one will talk to you during the ceremony. As aforementioned, no one is going to sit next to you at the ceremony which means you won't hear any running commentary about dresses, flowers, color choices, or even the best looking groomsman for that matter. You can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the wedding.
- You won't know anyone at the reception. This might at first seem like a downside, but it is in fact, a fabulous item on the pro list. Knowing only the priest at the reception means very little small talk because once the bride, groom, and their parents chat with the priest that's about it. Everyone else will look past the clergy couple for a more fun looking duo. Little do they know. If only they suspected that the other two things I find fantastic about knowing only my date at a wedding reception are "beer that flows like wine" (Dumb & Dumber anyone?) and tons of anonymous white-girl-on-the-dance-floor dance moves... oooohhhhh yeahhhhh*
