I’m Not The Pastor’s Kid

Look, guys, it’s time I made this clear.

I’m not the pastor’s kid.

Yea, I know it’s confusing. My Dad is a pastor. But I’m not the pastor’s kid.

Really though, you should know exactly what I mean. You think I don’t notice, don’t you? You straighten up the second I walk in the room, like a saint just walked in. Oops, you dropped something on your foot. Shit.

And now that you’ve gone and said it, you’re embarrassed and your buddy whacks you on the arm, glancing in my direction. Let me ask you something….

What are you more embarrassed about? That you cussed, or that I saw it?

On Sunday’s I’m a friendly face. Another smile in the pastor family’s row during meet & greet. Any other time during the week, it’s like you don’t know me at all. You avoid me, or transform, or just kind of stand there and hope I disappear quickly.

I can’t fix that. However, I can tell you who I am. I’m not above you. Please, look me in the eyes, not at the ground. I’m a saint – that doesn’t make me saintly. Guess what! You’re a saint, too. All who follow Jesus Christ as their Lord are saints.

Unfortunately, so long as we live on this earth, we’re all sinners, too. We. I’m part of that.

That word you just muttered – I’ve heard it before. Hell, I’ve said it before. In three different languages, actually. (Perks of being an army brat.) Sometimes I get so ticked that I just have to run and jump and kick some hay bales or vault the gate. I’m selfish. I’m bad at communicating and worse at managing time. I recently discovered that I even get hangry. (To my great shame my fiance was on the reciprocating end of that discovery.) You don’t see that because you only really see the controlled version of me.

I work hard, I fight hard, and I fall hard. I give nothing but everything. It’s good when I’m doing the right thing – you can only imagine the terror that comes when I’m doing the wrong thing. Relying on myself, I’m really good at finding disaster. Right now I’m working on trusting God, and praising Him no matter what the situation may be. So far I haven’t even made it a whole day without a single complaint. A simple little goal that’s becoming quite the trial. Tomorrow I want to make it.

I don’t know what you’re working on. Maybe it’s cussing. If that’s the case, don’t look at me like I’m some sort of angel of justice come to rebuke you. Take it to the Lord in prayer. Bring your words to Him. I can’t forgive you when you apologize. You’re not sinning against me. You’re not hurting me. Your sins and your struggles are between you and God. There are times when as your sister in Christ I will remind you of your promise to Him. Please do the same for me.

I know we’re not the same. We’re never going to be the same. Doesn’t matter. Yea, my Dad just so happens to be a pastor. During my childhood he was a soldier. My father is the man God put in my life to raise me. Trust me, I’m not going to tattle on you to him. If you feel convicted when you’re with me, consider the One who I serve. I can guarantee that He knows before you or I say a single word.

I’m not a pastor’s kid. I’m a servant of the God most high, daughter of the King of Kings. Who I am is nothing to you or your behavior. Who is He to you?