Confessions of a Relocated Pastor's Wife: Part 2, by Laurie Reyes

Not only was it an adventure to be in a new geographic region, it was an adventure to be in a new church. Everyone loved us. Our church showered us with cards, gifts, constant expressions of gratitude for our coming. It was a season of lavish encouragement. And we were excited about all that God was going to do at Covenant of Grace Church. We were excited to roll up our sleeves and get to work in our new "field".

In the novelty phase I remember thinking, "gee, this is much easier than I thought it would be." I missed my family and my church, but the exhilaration of adventure countered those feelings. It's not everyday that you get to experience a leap of faith like relocating, and I truly enjoyed the excitement and the privilege of joining Covenant of Grace Church.

Over time the comfort of ordinary rituals, and the exhilaration of being part of a new adventure faded. Once the blur and novelty wore off, I found things that used to be second nature, gradually harder to do. I wasn't curled up in a dark closet in the fetal position or anything, I just felt an over-arching malaise. Sometimes it was hard to tell if I was physically tired, sad, or just plain lazy. Everything from getting dressed and presentable in the morning, to routine housework, or even just going out of the house felt very hard. As a result, my home was less tidy than usual, my day to day appearance more -eh hem- organic than usual, and I felt tempted to be isolated rather than enjoy fellowship with others. What was it? Was I depressed? Was I mourning? Was I just being lazy and self indulgent? Perhaps all of these things- I don't know, but what I do know is that God used this season of my life to humble me and teach me greater dependence on Him.

Looking back, I think there were several things that contributed to this miserable season of my experience. One factor was that while I fully anticipated the pain of leaving my beloved family (which was still more painful than I expected), I totally underestimated the pain of leaving my church family. I missed my church in Maryland. I missed the comfort of being known and knowing others around me. I missed well-established biblical fellowship. I missed my staff wives growth group. I missed my role in the women's ministry. It was hard to hear about life moving forward in Sovereign Grace Church without being part of it. Another factor was the siren songs of self pity and self indulgence. There was a subtle (or not so subtle) feeling that hey, I just did something really hard and painful so I'm entitled to comfort/console/reward/distract myself with food, phone calls, and Facebook. Living such an indulgent life is depressing. Obviously, and I know this - I'm a pastor's wife for crying out loud - there was no comfort, consolation, reward, or escape found in these things. There was only the downward spiral of failure and guilt. I have been well taught and know that "the path of duty is the way of safety" but I wandered from that path, gave myself a pass on a lot of my duties because I was grieving, and the result was that I was more miserable.

My husband had the difficult job of being compassionate and understanding, but not letting me continue in this downward spiral. Jason was extremely patient, but challenged me as well. Part of his leadership included constantly reminding me of various aspects of the gospel, praying for me, supplying me with good materials to read or listen to, sending me to the local coffee shop to get vision for my life as a wife, mother, and homemaker. But his leadership also included extremely practical things like holding me accountable to limit my time on the computer (for a month I only turned it on during weekends), me going on the South Beach diet to break some unhealthy eating habits (Jason didn't suggest the diet. He's brave, but not stupid), and my incorporating exercise into my week (jazzercise - and yes, I'm still looking for that perfect set of coordinating leg warmer/sweatbands  ). Within a month I started feeling much better. These things seem so unspiritual, but I think because doing them required such dependence on the Holy Spirit, such brutal battle with my flesh, that I really saw the benefits in other areas of my life that required desperate, dependent self-control. I can't help but adding that I was truly surprised that a huge spiritual emphasis God had for me during the first year of my relocating was the need to cultivate self control. Whether it was self control over unhelpful thought patterns, the use of food or entertainment for wrong reasons, or reigning in emotions and feelings, I discovered (and continue to discover) that self control is indeed a wall of defense particularly during times of emotional vulnerability.

It is one thing to have faith to leave family, friends, church, a support system, etc. It requires a whole other level of faith to do this to your children. Not many things grieve me like the idea of my children growing up without the everyday influence of their grandparents (including a godly great granny), aunts, and uncles. Taking my kids away from their beloved cousins, friends, and the only church they've ever known was not something we took lightly in making a decision to come to Ohio. You might be thinking, "hey, Ohio is only 6 1/2 hours away" but to us this feels like the other side of the earth compared to what we have enjoyed with extended family. Every family member not only lived within a five mile radius, but also attended our church. We did life, the dailies of life, with our family.

So why in the world would we take our kids away from such a good thing? We believe God called us to do it, and they won't suffer because of His faithfulness to His Word. Jesus said in Mark 10: 29 Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.

It was difficult in the beginning to watch my children miss their family in MD. One of my boys would come in our room at night crying because he missed his cousins so badly. At one point I found little index cards under the boys' pillows that said "miss list" at the top and every family member's name followed. It was sweet and painful at the same time. But now, with almost two years under our belts I can tell you that my children are doing fine. God has given them so much grace to be in Ohio. In fact, they have made this transition much easier than I have. They love and are loved by our church. They have made many friends. And most importantly, they are experiencing in a unique way what it means to really give ourselves to the furtherance of the gospel.

I haven't been the new girl in a very long time. In fact, I was nine years old when we started attending Sovereign Grace Church and God blessed me with my first best friend, Michelle, almost immediately. Most of the friendships I had at my old church spanned various seasons of life. We were children together, teenagers together, singles, young marrieds, new mommies. My friends knew me as "Laurie" not as a pastor's wife. It was hard at first not to compare what I enjoyed before with what I was lacking in my new church. Loneliness triggered self pity with regard to friendships. Making friends required more time and work than I anticipated.

God has been so gracious through this season of loneliness. First, he gave me a dear friend in Kathy Stewart, whose husband came to serve alongside Jason as a pastor just six months into our relocation. In his kindness, God seemed to speed our relationship forward and we have been able to have fun and fellowship that I thought would take years to cultivate. God has also been gracious to help me get passed the self pity, and really have faith regarding friends. He has shown me that it's not about having gal pals, BFF's etc. It's about being part of His church, a community of believers. He has helped me have faith that these people in this local church in Ohio are His provision for me to mature as a believer. Through eyes of faith I am seeing that my current community of believers is even better for me than my previous one. And I have faith that one day, these relationships that are just beginning will be dearer to me than those I've had in the past. I marvel that this is possible. When I'm tempted to look back at what I enjoyed at my old church, rather than give in to self pity, I try to have faith that this will happen for me again in a new location. God who gives precious gifts in the form of friendships, will continue to give these good gifts here in Ohio.

As hard as it was to begin my relocation story, it's equally as hard to end it. Do I end with where I am now in the process? Do I end with what a privilege it has been to be "sent" by one dear church to serve another dear church? Do I end with how much more I respect my husband as he's grown in his leadership not only of a church, but of our family as well? Do I end with how grateful I am to experience "for the sake of the gospel" in concrete terms not an abstract sentiment?

I think I have to end, not with my relocation story, but with the story of another relocation. Jesus left Heaven to come to earth. He left being perfectly worshiped and adored, to being doubted and denied. He, the perfect holy One, creator and sustainer of life, became a man. He was tempted in every way, but did not sin. He ministered to the poor and helpless. He obeyed the Father's will even to the point of death on a cross. But He didn't stay here on earth. He ascended into heaven and is now ruling and reigning at the right hand of the Father. His relocation story is the only one that truly matters. It's in His relocating, that I do my relocating. And I long for the day, like I never have before, when we will be together in His presence never to relocate again. It's only on that day that any of us will truly be "home".