We are finally somewhat settled in to the new community, the new church, the new life, I think! Watching my husband start up this new ministry, I am reminded of some of the things I have learned over the years in this job as the minister’s spouse. Unlike his first ministry (or second or third…), I find myself in a place of supreme calm around his work and his future here. This was a great match for him and the congregation, and for our family in this place, which bodes well for the future. And after all these years of watching him work, I know that he is good at his job and rises beautifully to the challenges of his calling. This is a wonderful feeling to have, as it makes it easy for me to simply move on in my own life without worrying about his ability to make things work with the congregation.

This is a far cry from where I was 20 years ago. Then, I felt compelled to obsess over his every move, practically. Somehow I had taken it upon myself to interpret “helpmeet” as spiritual advisor, relationship counselor, work coach, life coach, social secretary… well, you get the idea. I realize now that I was working out of the notion that if he just got everything “right”, then his congregation would love him and all would be wonderful. (And he would keep his job.)

The net result of course, was that I was interfering in his own growth as I tried to help him avoid making the very mistakes he would learn from the most. I was also taking partial responsibility for his job success. Huh?! What is it about the ministry that sucks in spouses and partners as if we somehow own this job as well? All while protesting that the church didn’t hire us and so should have no expectations? It’s weird.

So what do I know now that I wish I had known then? Stay out of it. It’s his/her job, not yours. Your minister will figure things out and make the ministry work. Or not. But interfering just gives the message that you don’t trust your partner to handle his or her life’s work without your “valuable” input.

And it is a lot easier to maintain a state of Zen-like calm in the face of storms if you are not personally wrapped up in the relationship.