My father has been a deacon in church since I was four years old (I think. I know he was installed as a deacon when I was little). After church meetings that went on way longer than originally planned was a part of life. People compare being a deacon’s kid as growing up in a bubble or a glass house. I never felt that way when it came to living life. My mother made sure we just grew up and had fun. I did feel that bubble thing during my teenage years when I wanted to talk with another adult about how I felt misunderstood but never did because I was afraid my venting would harm my parents in ways I never intended. Other than that, I had no complaints about being a deacon’s kid…until I became a Pastor’s wife.
I have been at the same church since I was 13 years old. I met my husband through a member there, I was married there, my husband was called to preach there, and we serve there now. My father has been a deacon there all that time as well. Now, that I am a Pastor’s wife, I hear a lot of deacon complaints. My husband never speaks ill of my father. In fact, I think my father is the one deacon my husband has no push-back from (and that has nothing to do with family relation but has everything with them being men of God who want to see His kingdom grow). However, being a Pastor’s wife has allowed for me to hear little birdies complain of the deacons and my father is named specifically in their chirping.
PISSES ME OFF TO NO END!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His tenure there has made him common to the masses. I have to endure (only as much as I have to be present for the chirping, off kilter comments made about my father, and seeing him and my mother excluded from gatherings at the homes of others while we are (sometimes) invited.
I have come to this conclusion.
My daddy is a FANTASTIC daddy and will always be seen that way in my eyes even if he is not the favorite deacon of others. I could care less about what those birds chirp because when it comes down to it, those same chirping birds call Deacon Lee FIRST when they need something and Deacon Lee, my daddy, responds with genuine love and concern even when he knows those same birds will crap on him the first chance they get.
The goodness of God is that this Pastor’s wife responds with the same genuine love and kindness and won’t remember the chirping that very same bird did just a week ago when I am asked for help. I don’t remember a thing until after the love was poured on. Then I look up at the sky with a questioned expression asking God why didn’t He allow me to remember all this before I did what I did. (smh) I know the answer even before I get the words out.