I have always been a Pastor’s Kid. The title has become a part of my identity, a part of everything I have always known. Ever since I was young, I can remember being the first to show up and the last to leave nearly every church event. Some of my fondest memories are of sitting next to my father in the front pew as he prepared for his sermon. I can remember making my own bulletins in his office: my small hands cutting and pasting together clip art and writing sentences underneath about imaginary church events. He would always read them, and I would always beam with pride.

Being a Pastor’s Kid means putting up with a lot, but I never really minded too much. I loved having people from our church come into our home to share meals with us. I loved being able to hear about how the church was expanding and growing. I loved hearing the details about events that were coming up within the church. I loved being a Pastor’s Kid.

For all my eighteen years, it was the only way of living that I knew.

This past spring, my father announced his resignation from the church he had been ministering to for twenty-two years. As much as my father loved this church and the people who were a part of it, I could see he was being spiritually torn apart. God was telling him to let go, to hand over the reins to someone else.

I was not surprised, because I was his kid; I had witnessed the behind-the-scenes of his ministry. I knew that he was following a higher calling on his life.

But as the inevitable end of his ministry at our church drew near, I began dreading the change that would come for me and my family. How was I going to make it through this? How was I supposed handle such a change after living the same life for eighteen years? I didn't have a voice in this change and, though I wasn't taken aback by the news of his resignation, I suddenly wasn't sure how to cope with it.

In July, we had our last Sunday at our church with my father as the serving Pastor. To say the service was emotional is by far an understatement. Memories from my entire life flooded my mind. I clung to each word my father spoke, and watched as my mother worshipped God for what could be the last time in her usual spot in our usual church. I soaked up every moment, excited for the church’s new direction, but questioning what God’s new direction for my father and mother would be.

It has been more than twenty weeks since my father was Pastor of the Warren Wesleyan Church. Through it all the church has become stronger. I continued to go to the church with my brother and sister. I was blessed with the opportunity to see our new Pastor begin his own ministry in our church. The church continues to be a blessing in our community, and God has blessed it for allowing the change to take place.

My parents, through it all, have remained faithful to God. I have been humbled by both their obedience to God and by the immense generosity of the people around us. Through these past weeks, my father hasn’t had a paycheck besides the occasional pulpit fill. Despite the financial setback, my parents continue to wait for the perfect calling that God has for them. Job interviews have fallen through and hope has wavered. Despite it all, I believe God has something great in store for my parents. I have been angry and disappointed and frustrated with God for putting my parents through all this uncertainty. I have asked Him how, how could He put them through this after their years of faithful service to Him? Doesn’t he care about them? Doesn’t he know how hard this life has been for them?

And then, through love and His grace, I am reminded that we are not forgotten, we are not alone. He cares for the birds of the air and he cares for my parents and me. People’s generosity has been unreal. When bills continue to pour in, the inevitable question of how we going to pay for this follows. Every time, God bolsters our faith by humbling us through other’s generosity.

Being a Pastor’s Kid isn’t about being the first one to church or the last one to leave. It’s about being raised by two people who have chosen to put their entire lives in God’s Will. It’s about being able to see firsthand what it is to follow God’s calling. I am beyond blessed; I am, and always will be, a Pastor’s Kid.