by Angela Sanders | Dec 18, 2018
“Don’t wish away time,” Grandmother used to say, so I’ve tried my very best not to.
I didn’t wish away the newlywed stage, but let conversation with Todd wander, gave laughter time to bubble up, and studied my new husband’s face until I had it memorized.
I didn’t wish away the baby stage, but rocked and sang, cooed and cuddled, and worked hard for those great big belly laughs.
I didn’t wish away childhood, but indulged our children’s silliness, asked open-ended questions, and gave them time to explore and express their imaginations.
I didn’t wish away the teen years, but gave them a chance to process, encouraged the development of their skill sets, and waited for their unique personalities to fully bloom.
I’m so thankful for Grandmother’s wisdom.
Life isn’t all roses and sunshine, though, and Todd and I have shouldered our share of strife.
Family stress. Financial strain. Career challenges. Poor health. These seasons, I did wish away—with all my heart and way too much of my mind.
Grandmother also used to say, “This too shall pass,” and, thankfully, it did.
Trouble is, by the time family stress was over, Todd and I weren’t alone anymore. By the time we experienced some financial relief, that sweet baby smell had faded. By the time certain career challenges had been hurdled, games of make-believe were just a memory, and when the shadow of illness lifted, our teens had already grown and flown.
Truth? If I could do it all over again, I would, even if it meant more suffering. This time, though, I’d fret less and trust God more so I could fully enjoy the moments I meant to treasure.
We don’t get do-over’s, friends, and tomorrow isn’t promised. Be wise.
This moment? It too shall pass.
by Angela Sanders | Dec 4, 2018
I am not an addict. At least, I don’t think I am.
There are some things that bring me pleasure, though, and I’ll admit that I sometimes go to lengths I shouldn’t to enjoy them the way I want to, trading in God’s long-term best for temporary satisfaction.
Sometimes I realize my mistake in the moment, and sometimes I don’t, but I always end up regretting it.
God is faithful, you see, so His Holy Spirit doesn’t let me get by with a thing. When I step outside of God’s will for me, He pokes my heart. If I ignore Him, He gives it a squeeze. If I hold my hands over my ears and sing “la, la, la,” He takes more drastic measures, not to be mean, but kind.
God understands better than I do what the relational static my sin creates will do to my peace of mind sooner or later. Anticipating the fear and confusion I’ll feel as child of God no longer able to hear my Father clearly, He gives me the opportunity to confess and repent at the get-go, to turn around and get back on track before I wander farther and feel even more alone.
Trouble is, the Enemy is out there, too. Not poking, but jabbing. Not squeezing, but crushing. His weapon? Guilt.
“Well, here we are again!” he jeers. “What would they think if they saw what you just did, huh? What if they heard what you just said? What if they knew what you just thought? Some leader you are! You fake. You weakling. You selfish loser. And you thought God could use someone like you!”
At least that’s how it goes in my head.
I must admit, this sad little speech used to trip me up, slow me down, stall me out, but not anymore. One day, flinching under just such a tongue-lashing, I realized that while the choice I had made was admittedly wrong, as it failed to glorify God, or show people who He was and what He’d done for me in Jesus, the desire behind it wasn’t.
Full disclosure? I was guilty of gluttony, communicating through my actions that what God intended for me to have wasn’t sufficient and that my body, the temple of the Holy Spirit, wasn’t worth stewarding well, but I didn’t really believe those things. In that moment, I just wanted to stop wanting.
Upon further reflection, I realized much of the sin in my life—anything that doesn’t match God’s will and character—was driven by similar desires.
I wanted to belong. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be free.
Wanting these things is not wrong, but going outside of God’s will to get them is.
God’s plan is perfect. It may not bring what we want in the moment, but it always yields what we need in the end.
Someday, those of us who have put our faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection for salvation from the consequences of sin and so been permanently adopted as His children will come fully into our inheritance, the Kingdom of God. On that day, we will not only see the purpose behind our struggle and what it accomplished, but we will also receive what is ours by re-birthright and be satisfied.
Surrounded by our brothers and sisters in Christ, we will know we belong. Tears wiped away by the Father, we will be happy. No longer slaves to sin, we will be free. Finally made perfect, we will lack for nothing, and the longing that opened us up to temptation here on earth will be a distant memory.
Until then, we wait. Not passively, but actively.
Holding up this future hope as a shield against present temptation, we keep moving forward toward Christ-likeness by the power of His Holy Spirit, not so people will be impressed with us, but so they will see God for Who He really is—the One who holds His children close, the One Who restores them gently when they wander, the One Who meets their every need—and put their faith in Him, for our collective good and the Father’s well-deserved glory.
by Angela Sanders | Nov 20, 2018
It’s been three months. Three slow, surreal months since my mother-in-law, my God-given Naomi, passed from this life and stepped into her eternal reward. Final bills have been paid. Most keepsakes have been distributed, and that which can be left until spring has been tucked away until everyone is ready to pick up where we left off.
It’s time now to huddle up and focus on the holidays and each other.
Things will be different this year, of course. The shopping list will be shorter. There will be gaping holes in our schedule, and laughter of a certain timbre and intensity will be noticeably absent, to name a few.
It will hurt. Deeply.
But I know this: God will be there, carrying us, comforting us, and teaching us things humans only learn by walking paths none of us want to travel.
Here are a few things I’ve learned so far:
God’s grace really is sufficient.
Anyone who knows me knows that medical things freak me out. I’m the mom who couldn’t even take her kids to get their immunizations by herself because she would faint, so the idea of walking Brenda through her cancer journey was intimidating at best, a living nightmare at worst. The first time I stepped into the cancer center, my cheeks went prickly cold and my ears began to ring. I’ll never forget telling God there was no way I could do this even for a day, much less for an indeterminable stretch of time. In answer, He granted me an acute awareness of His presence that not only kept me from fainting that day, but enabled me to smile and crack jokes that eased everyone else’s tension.
Six long years later, I helped dress Brenda’s ulcerations, stayed in the room as the hospice nurse bathed her fragile body distorted by the cancer that was eating her up, and assisted her with more private needs. On her last day, I knelt in front of her, her forehead boring into mine as she fought nausea, a bucket between us. Her tiny arms hanging heavily on my shoulder, I inhaled her feverish exhale and absorbed the vibration of her every moan. As my emotional and physical strength cracked and shattered, God replaced it with His and made me what I needed to be.
Death itself is a non-event.
In the months leading up to her physical death, Todd and I spent a lot of time and energy anticipating Brenda’s final moments. Wanting those moments to be the very best they could possibly be for her, we shared our hearts early, read Scripture over her, over-communicated details to one another, and juggled schedules to make sure we didn’t miss the difficult, but fruitful struggle we’d built up in our imaginations. It never happened.
When Brenda’s time came, her soul simply stepped out of her body into eternity like anyone steps from one room into another, the transition imperceptible but for the absence of her labored breath. And that was it. A split second, and she was free. No struggle. No pain. Just peace. When it was over, I actually felt a little silly for dreading it and wondered whether Brenda would have chosen the agony of prolonged resistance if she’d known all along what a non-event her moment of passing would turn out to be on this side.
Fear of anything but God is pointless.
Illness is scary, cancer in particular. There are worse afflictions, I’m sure, but cancer seems to be the beast with whom we are most familiar, the one whose shadow haunts the healthy. Because we know what it does to people, we dread hearing that word from a doctor’s lips. When you do, everything that seemed scary before fades into the background, not gone, but diminished in light of the news you just received. Suddenly, getting cancer before it gets you becomes the number one goal.
Except it can’t get you. Sure, cancer can take your strength, your mind, your body, but it can’t get YOU, the soul that lives on after the battle is over, no matter the outcome. This being true, the decision a person makes concerning the Gospel of Jesus Christ is more important than any decision they make concerning treatment options. Thankfully, Brenda put her faith in a crucified and resurrected Jesus, the sinless Son of God, for salvation from the consequences of sin when she was a young teenager. She wasn’t perfect by any stretch and would have been the first to admit that, but she always knew, deep down, that she was a permanently adopted child of Almighty God.
As tyrannical as Brenda’s illness proved to be, devouring her body before our very eyes, the lion Cancer turned kitten in the end, weaker than the hope Brenda had found in Jesus, limited in its reach as she slipped right out of its clutches, and small before the great big God that ultimately delivered His child safely home.
In a few weeks, they’ll lay a headstone on Brenda’s grave that reads, “See you soon!” at the bottom, a promise from us to her. Thanks to what I’ve learned through recent events, that’s a welcome thought now rather than the sort-of scary one it used to be, and I can run into the unmapped in-between, whatever it holds, with confidence and joy.
This holiday season, my thanksgiving will be better informed, and my worship of the King born to set us free will be more genuine and heartfelt. Yes, things will be different this year, but some of those changes will be good.
by Angela Sanders | Oct 23, 2018
There are many ways to make Mr. Minister feel appreciated during this Minister Appreciation Month, but if you really want to touch his heart, befriend his missus.
“I’d love to,” you say, “but I don’t know how! She’s just so…” Fill in the blank.
Whatever word you chose, I assure you there are ways to get around that barrier.
My husband Todd and I have been in ministry together for over twenty-five years. We served in three local churches before he began denominational work ten years ago, and as much as I’d like to say I was the same person in all of those settings, that would probably be a lie.
Of course, I knew all along I was called by God to impact the Kingdom as helpmate to my husband. However, I wasn’t always sure what that was supposed to look like, and the capacity and manner in which I was able to serve varied according to age, life stage, and church dynamic.
Sometimes I felt confident and empowered. Other times, I felt insecure and helpless.
Sometimes I felt strong and productive. Other times, I felt fragile and stymied.
Sometimes I had lots of leftover love to lavish, and other times I was too busy licking my own wounds to notice anyone else’s.
In short, I was just like everyone else.
God was always strong, of course, and I trust that He was able to work through my obedience and in spite of my weaknesses at every age and stage. However, I know all too well what some people expect from the families of those in vocational ministry and how unrealistic those expectations can be sometimes, so I cringe to think how folks may have finished the sentence above in reference to me.
This being true, I am extra thankful for those who took on the challenge of befriending the minister’s wife.
Want to do the same? Here’s how:
Examine your motives
Why do you want to be her friend? What are you hoping to get out of the relationship? Odds are, she’ll be wondering these same things, as most minister’s wives have been burned at some point, so if your answers are self-serving, you’d probably better wait until they aren’t.
Set aside preconceived ideas
There are as many opinions of what makes a great minister’s wife as there are people in local church. If you go in expecting your friend to live up to your expectations, you’ll set yourself up for disappointment and both of you for hurt. However, if you make a point of destroying your mental checklist, you will leave room to be pleasantly surprised and for a healthy friendship to grow.
Get to know her
This could be a challenge. Years of living in a fish bowl may have left your friend feeling exposed. If so, it might take a while to break through the wall she’s built to protect herself from those who forget she has feelings. Don’t give up! Ask her questions. Listen to her answers. Spend time with her outside of church. Watch what she does and how she reacts in different situations, and you’ll catch a glimpse of her heart.
Be real
Be yourself. All the time. Don’t act one way around your friend and another around everyone else. She doesn’t expect—or want—you to put on a show for her. Doing so will only breed distrust. No, let your friend see you at your best and your worst, and she’ll eventually trust you with hers. When she finally does, don’t spook. This peek at her personal journey toward Christ-likeness is a privilege, as she probably doesn’t let many people in this far. Be sure to steward it well.
Love her family
This should go without saying, but you’d be surprised how often minister’s wives are expected to listen to criticism about their families—their husbands, in particular—without losing their cool, overlook mistreatment of their loved ones, and play go-between for the discontents in the congregation. Show your friend’s husband and children the same patience, mercy, and forgiveness you want others to show your family, and you’ll have set yourself apart in a big way. Heap grace on them, and you’ll have your friend’s full attention and gratitude.
Protect, include, and support her
Most minister’s wives have thick skin, but it’s often made of scar tissue. One word or action leveled with strength in just the right—or wrong—spot could open them wide and do serious damage. Stand up for your friend. Don’t allow others to gossip about her and/or her family. Keep her confidences to yourself.
When groups get together, remind them to include your friend in the guest list. Most don’t because they assume the minister’s wife is busy elsewhere. This may be true, but that busyness probably has very little to do with self-care and/or building the relationships she wants and desperately needs. She may turn your invitation down, but that doesn’t mean she prefers the things that are monopolizing her time. Keep asking! Sooner or later, schedules will align, and she’ll be able to join you. Until then, just being invited will make her feel loved.
Minister’s wives, perhaps more than anyone else in the church, are expected to be all things to all people. Sometimes, the best gift you can give your friend is to need her a little less than other people do. Yes, it might feel at times like you’re giving more to the friendship, but that’s just because your friend’s stick of butter has to cover more bread. Don’t get jealous or angry. Encourage her. Share her. Help her, and maybe she’ll have more time for you.
Respect her boundaries
Minister’s wives are privy to information other people aren’t. Sadly, many people befriend them because they want the power, real or imagined, that comes from being “in the know.” Don’t be one of those people. If there’s information to be gleaned, get it somewhere else. Don’t compromise your friendship by pumping your friend for information that’s not hers to give. Furthermore, if you sense she’s telling you more than she ought, stop her. Protect her from herself. She’ll thank you later, and you will have proven yourself a genuine friend that loves her for her.
Give and take
As circumstances call for it, do what you can for your friend and let her do what she can for you. Yes, there’s something to be said for needing her a little less than other people do, but if you keep her at arm’s length when she has the desire and means to meet a need in your life, she’ll feel like your project instead of your friend. If you want her to share her mess with you, share your mess with her.
Stick it out
From a distance, the life of a minister’s wife looks like a lot of fun. Sure, people know who she is, give her attention, and want hers in return, but it’s mostly hard work and folks are fickle. They won’t always like your friend. What will you do then? If you are a real friend, you won’t abandon her just because her approval rating goes down, even if she has truly messed up. You’ll stick it out. Sure, you may have to correct, forgive, and/or restore her, but you’ll stay because, in Christ, she’s more than a friend: she’s your sister.
Want to be a blessing? See and value your minister’s wife for the uniquely designed individual she is, complete with her own quirks and needs, then love her like you would any other friend. It may take a little work, but she’ll be yours for life!
by Angela Sanders | Oct 3, 2018
“The squeaky wheel gets the oil,” they say, and they’re right. Even in the Church.
But why?
Why do we work so hard to impress and win those who withhold praise and encouragement?
Why do we take the best care of people who complain?
Why do we spoil the selfish, hurry for the impatient, and work around the inflexible?
Why do we suffer the cynic, muse with the mocker, and cater to the critic?
Why do we follow those who consistently choose to frown?
It just doesn’t make sense.
Are we that fearful? Blind? Insecure? Maybe. Or maybe we’re miserable, too, and want company.
Or maybe we’re generous.
Deep down, we know such behavior is unacceptable, especially from someone who holds a position of spiritual authority or influence. Rather than believe the worst about them, that they are more worried about preserving self and projecting personality than representing the Savior well, we assume they must have a really good reason for behaving as they do.
For instance, maybe they’ve just experienced more heartache than some. Maybe they’ve seen more ugliness than others. Maybe they know just a little bit more…
So what? The rules don’t apply? That’s not the way it works!
Those of us who put our faith in Jesus Christ for salvation from the consequences of sin have the power of God inside us in the form of the Holy Spirit. He comforts. He guides. He empowers. And as we cooperate, He transforms us into the image of Jesus Christ for God’s glory, so the world will know Who He is, acknowledge what He’s done, and praise Him for it.
Through God, we have victory over sin and death and our nasty human habits, but we have to choose it through submission and obedience to God. Every moment of every day. Jesus did, and He endured more than anyone else ever has or ever will.
Listen, we all have bad days, but those who continually fail to reflect the power of the Holy Spirit to transform sinners into saints in their response to circumstances and/or interaction with others either don’t really belong to God or are consciously choosing disobedience. Either way, they’re treading thin ice and aren’t the ones we should follow!
Want to see real change in the Church?
I believe it will come when we stop oiling the squeaky wheels and turn our attention instead to our brothers and sisters who don’t demand it—forgiving, praying for, and being patient with those who aren’t yet living in victory, of course, but only allowing ourselves to be led by those who have seen ugliness and experienced heartache, but still choose to respond in love because they know the Father intimately and care more about glorifying Him than anything else.
Don’t be fooled, family! Grumpy does not equal wise. There’s strength behind a smile.