Recently when we posted our article “We owe the pastor’s wife a great debt of love,” among the responses that flowed in were a couple from women married to ministers who said, “We live a long way from the nearest church of our denomination. So, there is no one nearby for me to meet with.”

I replied, “Go outside your group. Once you get past the surface differences, you’d be surprised how much you and the other wives have in common.”

It occurs to me today how difficult that might be for some.

If, for instance, you are married to a Pentecostal preacher and the only other churches in your town are Episcopalian and Methodist, you could easily feel that the differences in your situations are so vast that this would not work.

Give it a try. Maybe you’re right. But what if you’re wrong and those spouses could turn out to be your best friends.

Let me tell you a story. I’ve told it on these pages before, but it fits here.

When Margaret and I had been married perhaps 6 years, we were out of seminary and serving in a small Mississippi city that was well-churched.  Our two sons were small, I was enjoying the challenge of a demanding pastorate, and the future looked great.  What I did not know is that my wife was chafing under all the demands of motherhood and pastor’s-wife-hood (is that a word?) while her husband seemed to live at the church and be available for every one except her.

When the local mental health association brought in two chaplains from a hospital in Georgia to lead a daylong conference for pastors, I signed up.

That afternoon, before the meeting adjourned, one of the leaders told the dozen ministers in the room, “Our plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow.  Why don’t you bring your wives back here tonight, and we’ll talk about the pastor’s home life?”

Do I need to tell you that most pastors do not want to talk about their home life? I didn’t.  I knew I was being a lousy husband, but felt there was nothing I could do about it. My coal miner dad had often worked in the field all day, then put in 8 hours inside the mines. Hard work was what the man does. The wife takes care of things at home.

Six or eight of us showed up that night with our wives.  We sat in a circle with the chaplains in the center.

The conversation got spirited quickly.

It became apparent in about 5 minutes that the frustrations Margaret was experiencing were shared by every woman in the room.

We went until 9:30 that night. Then, one of the men said, “Our plane doesn’t leave until noon. Why don’t we meet back here in the morning?”

The makeup of the group changed somewhat overnight. One of the men finally got his wife to come, and boy, was she primed.

That woman was carrying a truckload of anger–anger at her husband, at their denomination, at the members of their church, at God.

If memory serves, she was married to the Episcopal priest.

For the “evangelical” wives in the group (you understand the term), seeing that this woman was battling the same emotions and frustrations as they actually helped. Until that moment, they would have had no clue that wives in the more liturgical churches, where their husbands are called priests and vicars and rectors and such, trod the same path as they.

Our part of the story is this…

At one point, when the group was discussing the pastor’s off days, Margaret said, “Ever since we were married, Joe has been promising he was going to take a day a week off. And he still has not done it.”

The chaplain looked at me in mock horror. “Joe! Man! You don’t even give your family one day a week?”

I said sheepishly, “I meant it when I said that. But I’ve just never thought I had things to the point I could afford to do it.”

He said, “Margaret, with all of us as your witnesses, I want you to turn and look at Joe and ask him to start giving you and the children one day a week.”

She said, “No, I’m not going to put him on the spot like that.”

I appreciated this from her. But I said, “Because I was sincere in promising it, I’ll say right now in front of all of you that I’ll start doing one day a week.”

The chaplain said, “When? What day?” He was persistent, I’ll give him that.

“Today. Tuesday.  Every Tuesday.”

The Methodist minister–I still remember his name was Gene Russell, a great guy–said, “Margaret, you tell me the first Tuesday he misses and I’ll come over and kick his butt.”

Methodists talk like that. (smile please)

When we dismissed, Margaret and I drove home and picked up our sons, I told the church secretary I was out for the day, and we drove an hour to the next city of any size and had a family day.  We went to the park and played, we ate out, and we might have taken in a movie.

When we pulled into the driveway that night, I was exhausted but elated. It had been a great day.

Anyone graphing our marriage in those days would have seen a sudden spike at that point.

I made a discovery. The only way I could allow myself to enjoy taking the day off was to leave town, which meant getting away from the phone and being unavailable for emergencies.  (My heart goes out to this generation of ministers with the ever-handy cell phone. However, the thing has an on-off button.  If the pastor cannot bring himself to turn it off, he should hand it to a friend and ask them to take his calls and tell people that he is unavailable at the moment.)

That’s our story.

Looking back, I wish we had thought of encouraging those pastors’ wives to meet for coffee once in a while.

No one thought of it, so it wasn’t done.  In later churches, Margaret would sometimes befriend younger wives of ministers and meet with them.

Now, finally, let me address the topic at hand: “How the pastor’s wife can find a buddy.”

1) Ask your preacher husband to give you the names of three or four of his best friends in the ministry, their wives’ names, and their phone numbers.  Even if you don’t know them, your husband will know those ministers.

That’s where you start.

If your husband  is such a loner that he does not know (or like) any other preacher, the wall you are to scale will be higher, but if you will be persistent you can do this.

2) Call the wives. Tell them who you are (that is, who you are married to; sorry if that offends, but that’s the only way they will know to identify you), and simply say that you wonder if they’d like to meet for coffee.  Make sure they know you’re inviting several.

3) I can tell you what will happen. The results will be mixed. One will be excited, one will be hesitant (“Well, I don’t know…”) and two will have day jobs (“I’m so sorry…I work 8 hours a day and by the time I get home, I’m so tired, etc etc”).

4) Go with whoever responds the first time, even if it’s just you and one other.

5) Then, consider finding some time the working wives can come. Saturday morning early? A weekday night after dinner?

6) At first, until a pattern is set, keep it brief.  If you set no parameters, I can tell you what will happen. One of the wives will bring up a hot subject that excites everyone, and first thing you know, you’ve all sat there for 2 hours.  It was satisfying, I grant you that, but the next time you want to meet, something inside each of you says, “I just don’t have two hours to give to this tonight” and you will skip. The success of the meetings will kill them if you’re not careful.

7) Make sure the husbands are supportive, because they may need to watch the children or take care of other matters while the wives are meeting.  However, once the preacher sees the change in his wife–she has found some people who understand!–the pressure will be off him and he will knock himself out to get his wife there.

Where to meet? The first time, you may want to meet at McDonald’s.  A neutral site allows participants to come late or leave early and no one is being judged by how clean her kitchen is.  Later, you may decide to meet in your homes.  That’s when it becomes more fun, so long as the kids and the men are out of the way.

You can do this.  It’s worth trying.

Anyway, what do you have to lose?

Starting place? Hand your husband this article.

(God bless you. I’m praying for you today.  Write and tell me if you’re doing this and how it works out. joe@joemckeever.com )