Twenty-nine years ago when James Miller Jr & I said, “I do” he most definitely was NOT a preacher. Frankly, he was barely even a Christian, a new convert as it were. While I certainly desired a Godly mate, being married to a preacher was not something that had crossed my mind…EVER! Jesus and church have been part of my life for as long as I can remember, but being in ministry has not. When he decided to become a credentialed minister, I naively assumed that decision would have no affect on me. Boy was I mistaken, and years down the road, I am still navigating through the consequences of that choice…good and bad.
Three weeks ago we took over the pastorate of a small church in our community, Greater Love Church – San Marcos, Texas. It was one of those “SUDDENLY” type things that one never sees coming, and you can never truly prepare for. Although this is the place where I find myself, I honestly have no desire to be a pastor’s wife. Pastors are expected to deal with people, and people are often messy, needy and shallow, myself included. Keeping me in check is a full time job, so why would I want to take on someone else’s idiosyncrasies too? This place looks nothing like my desires, for my desires are selfish; I long to live closer to my family and I wish for financial security, you know, a healthy income, with company sponsored benefits and a retirement plan. This place is filled with irony, the type defined by failure and rejection. It is a place I have visited before, was excommunicated and then spent many years recovering from, a place I never anticipated returning.
Please do not misunderstand me; this decision was made jointly. I believe God has us in this place for a purpose, what that purpose is, has yet to be determined. What exactly my role is supposed to look like, I have no idea. Why He would choose us is beyond me? Well, not entirely. If anyone can do this job, it is James, but unfortunately he comes with baggage; green eyed, curly-headed, tattooed, shoe loving, little bit of a rebel, baggage. But, if God can speak through a jackass, then I suppose all hope is not lost when it comes to me being the wife of a preacher, even when that was not exactly the choice I made. So, “for better or worse” here is where you will find me.
Becky J Miller