Moving Up
This blog has moved to http://www.thesecretlifeofthepastorswife.wordpress.com come visit and resubscribe.
Gap Outlet
Christmas day, 1985 my dad picked my two older sisters and I up in his smoke-filled 1967 Volvo. A car I despised until he upgraded to a 1975 lime pinto with a moldy ceiling, and then I missed… Read More
Rumor Has It: My Life with Twang
Last week my life played a bit like a country music song, minus the banjo and cowboy hat. My dog died, it would not stop raining, my mother-in-law (whom I love) came to… Read More
He’s Not a Stalker . . . He’s a Pastor
*Editor’s Note: I was given some feedback that my choice of words might give the impression that Jason and I have said “good-bye” to each other. ‘Tis not the case! We, as in… Read More
God’s Love Aint a Country Western Song
My daughter has a fantastic capacity to take everything I say and turn it into something I didn’t say at all. I say: “Hey T, you need to fold your laundry.” She screams:… Read More
Faith not Dooty
When assigning chores to my children, I followed all appropriate gender stereotypes and told my son to start scooping dog poop. I sweetened the deal by offering fifty cents per scoop. He, being brilliant,… Read More
I Can See Clearly Now
I have a daughter. She is nine. While pregnant I fantasized that her and I would spend our days together playing tennis, sipping Starbucks, and having completely logical conversations about life. I tried to be realistic, figuring we would have… Read More
Nose Worms, Cursing, and Mail Order Tigers
My Ninth grade Biology class, led by Mr. Scott, spent an entire month on parasitic worms. We discussed them, dissected them, detested them. The climax of the unit was the tape worm, also known as Thysanosoma actinoides. After giving a graphic… Read More
Going Rogue: The Search for Grace Lost
On Monday, the snow drifted down in silent beauty. I loaded the dogs in the mini van, navigated the icy roads, and slid into my favorite trail head. Braving the weather proved worthwhile, as I… Read More
God Loves Tebow This I Know (for his touchdowns tell me so?)
At my daughter’s first gymnastics meet they were short a timer for the balance beam. I offered my services right away. Afterall, I yell “just a few more seconds” for a living. At… Read More
Sometimes, You Should Spare the Rod
I once saw an interview with Lady Gaga. When asked to account for her fame, she simply explained that she studied it. All of her antics: the raw meat mini skirt, the strange… Read More
Failure: It’s the New Black
It’s funny which memories from childhood linger in my mind. One of the most vivid moments of my thirteenth year came at a soccer practice where my coach tried to instill in us the… Read More
Scouts Honor
My son asked if he could join the Boy Scouts. I objected on moral grounds. I just could not, in good conscience, stand outside the local grocery store soliciting innocent bystanders to buy beef sticks, candy bars, and 8,000 calorie… Read More
(Midlife) Crisis Averted . . . For now
My friend Janine gave me a Bondi Band; a six-inch strip of sweat-wicking lycra with three stitches to create a headband. I slid it on, admiring the neon pink and black polk-a-dots. I fell in… Read More
Big Dogs and Popsicles
I see her every day on the trails; four-foot nine and in her seventies, walking in an over-sized sun hat and white pleated pants, holding a leash connected to the biggest Huskie dog I have ever seen. My off-leash… Read More
A Not-so-Magic Carpet Ride
I often face criticism for the amount I work and my pursuit of busy. What most people don’t realize is that my on-the-go lifestyle is really just an elaborate scheme to avoid folding laundry. … Read More
Opinions Welcome (As Long as they are the Same as Mine)
I don’t usually publically rant. To my glazed-over husband? All the time. With my mother clucking back on the other end of the line? More than is probably healthy. In a public forum… Read More
‘Aint Nothin’ Wrong with a Little Bump ‘n Grind
They are often called unauthorized or unofficial by those who do not know better. Unmarked, but not nameless. They sit etched in memory of running partners past: Lovely Rita (who always cheated by… Read More
Drop the ‘Tude Dewed!
My daughter hates to be patronized. She always has. At three, her grandpa took her by the hand and showed her a beautiful vase full of wheat. “Teagan,” he began, “do you know what… Read More
