Friday, June 3, 2011

Our Love Story—I Don’t Play the Piano

Thanks to my unknown benefactor I went home for my Birthday that following weekend. Forget cake and presents, the only thing I wanted to do was go talk to my youth pastor’s wife. I found myself on Wendie’s couch that weekend spilling all of the details of the past six weeks.

I told her about this guy I met who’d singlehandedly (with God’s help of course) changed my perspective on so many things. I made it clear to her that this particular guy was way out of my league—so not an option—but because of him I found myself wondering about whether or not I could end up being a pastor’s wife of all things.

She questioned why I didn’t think I could be a pastor’s wife. I laughed at her. I reminded her that I had barely been a Christian for a year. I had a colorful past. I hadn’t grown up in the church. I knew so little about church. Honestly… I didn’t even know what a pastor’s wife was expected to do…

Suddenly she interrupted me with a big giant smile on her face. Through her audible laughing she said, “You are so going to end up marrying that guy.”

I dismissed her lofty statement; clearly she didn’t know the guy I was referring to. Getting back to my original point I said, “Besides, I don’t play the piano.”   

At this point she would have spit milk out of her nose had she been drinking it. “What?” she asked through her side splitting laughter.

“I don’t play the piano,” I said matter-of-factly. I had no idea what pastor’s wives did, but I was almost certain that was part of the job description. Wendie played the piano. She was pretty much the only actual pastor’s wife I really knew come to think about it. But all of the t.v. pastor’s wives played the piano. My pastor’s wife played the piano. Therefore all pastor’s wives play the piano, right? It seemed like a logical assumption right up until the time the words came out of my mouth that is.

Wendie could barely compose herself long enough to assure me that playing the piano was in no way a prerequisite to marrying a pastor. “But, if you are that concerned about it, I’d be happy to teach you how,” she told me.

I tried not to let the relief of her statement show on my face now that I realized how faulty my reasoning had been. But inside, I was truly relieved. I don’t think Wendie had any idea how hard it would have been to teach me how to play the piano. I don’t have a musical bone in my body!

Which only reminded me of how unlikely of a pastor’s wife I would be. I don’t play the piano. I can’t even carry a tune. Heck, I can’t even clap on beat!

 I’m not a gentle quiet soul. I am far from meek. I’m not exactly docile.

 I don’t have any big earrings or broaches. I’m not opposed to wearing skirts, but there’s no way I could wear one all of the time. It’s way too much effort to shave my legs every day. Besides, I don’t even own more than one skirt.

Not only do I not have anything with shoulder pads, it’s only been two months since I’d first heard about the importance of modesty, so I had finally stopped wearing my low cut tight fitting tank tops in public, but there was no way I wanted to go so far as to replace them with frumpy shoulder pad laden flower printed blouses.

Slow down, I thought to myself. Maybe, just maybe your other expectations of what a pastor’s wife is supposed to be like are as out to left field as your assumption that every pastor’s wife has to play the piano.

Wendie brought me back to reality as she provided me with some insight into what she does and doesn’t do as a pastor’s wife, what expectations are put on her and how she felt about the role she was in.

She also (somewhat out of the blue) informed me that I could plan a wedding in as little as six weeks if I ever needed to. She knew how much I desired purity in my relationships, but she also knew how difficult it would be given the fact that I had a not so pure past.

She encouraged me not to have a long engagement once I found the guy I was going to marry—and she was still insisting that it was going to be the way-out-of-my-league guy I had told her about earlier. She even offered to help if I ever found myself needing to plan a wedding with short notice. I thanked her for the offer, but couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I would need to plan a wedding in such a short amount of time. Still, I tucked that piece of advice in the back of my mind… just in case.

I had no idea at the time just how much of the conversation we had that day would be relevant to my future.     

Click on the "Our Love Story" tag at the top of the page to see other love story posts, or to start from the beginning.


T & K said...

I thought I had to be musical too, but also thought I had to be the out going NOT docile, friendly with everyone pastor's wife (like the pastor's wife I grew up with!). Though the thing about the shoulder pads and flower printed blouses is hilarious!: ) What a good youth pastor's wife she was/is...

Michelle said...

Ahahahaha ... Love this post, Robyn!! You really do need to write a book! :)

abertolini said...

One of the first things our senior pastor's wife asked me was if I played the piano! I said "no" very hesitantly and she responded with "GOOD! neither do I!"