The Enigma of the Church: The Pastor's Kid

In 2002, my dad became a pastor, thus thrusting my sister and me into the unique perspective of being Pastor’s Kids or PKs for short. I was 9 years old at the time. There wasn’t a drastic change because our dad was always in ministry, at least throughout my formative years. However, being a PK gives you a front-row seat to things that many people don’t see or experience.

This work is a peek into the thoughts of one who’s lived and continues to live as a PK. This will probably be one of my most transparent pieces, where I’ll dive into the joys, frustrations, identity, perceptions, assumptions, and expectations of the PK. My experience as a PK is not the standard or the only point of view on the matter. Still, I believe there are some rather significant overlaps among those who’ve experienced the life of a PK.

For my fellow PKs, my hope and prayer that you can relate to some of the things written here and can learn from some of the lessons I’ve learned. You’re not alone in the thoughts of feeling misunderstood by your peers and the unreal expectations placed upon you.

For those who don’t know what it’s like to be a PK, my hope and prayer are that this will give you some understanding and appreciation of a PK’s realities.

To ministers, pastors, and aspiring pastors, take these words as an encouragement and a warning about the gravity of the decisions you make and how they affect your family, especially your children. Remember, the Church is Christ’s bride and not yours. You’re just a steward or manager of a portion of the flock, so don’t neglect your family’s needs.

Let’s get into it.

Front Row

Being a PK, ministry becomes your life, even if you ask for it or not. I have had the privilege of seeing a church being built from the ground up. The church started in my parents’ basement, so being late to church was kind of impossible. Foundational Christianity was quite literal for us 😏. Setup and tear down were a way of life, and you enjoyed it because that was just how life was.

However, always being around, you’re privy to the inner workings and turmoil within the church. Church politics are a very real existence. Within the church is a unique problem. On the one hand, you see the best in humanity expressed through unity in a community of believers. On the other hand, you see humanity’s depravity through lack of commitment, betrayal, and other problems.

Because of the ever-present paradox, I became naturally cautious of people. I’m introverted by nature; being attentive isn’t anything new, but it becomes a defense mechanism with added fuel. I think for a lot of PKs, we become rather adept at reading people. Observation is a great skill that has helped me know who to trust through their actions and not just by what they say. Words hold more power when it’s reflected in one’s life.

Center Stage

People are always watching. Attention from people isn’t something most PKs lack. It feels like every choice or decision you make is under heavier scrutiny than others, especially other kids. I loathe double standards. I have no problem with expectations when clearly defined, but vague ones are easily misinterpreted. When someone expects someone else to be better and don’t hold themselves to the same, that’s a double standard. A personal motto that I live by is:

Don’t hold someone to a standard you aren’t willing to keep for yourself.

Like anyone, I’ve contradicted myself and participated in such hypocrisy, and that’s why we need to confess our sins and ask for forgiveness. I can understand why so many people can be and are turned off from Christianity because some congregations cultivate self-righteousness, which is distasteful. You never sacrifice truth, but grace has to be dispensed as well.

SERVICE

Service becomes a lifestyle. My parents, sis, and I may have cumulatively lived as a nuclear family in our house for 3 years. Someone from our extended family pretty much always lived with us. You view service lived out in your life on a day-to-day basis. I’m the most tunnel vision of the fam, no contest. They would wholeheartedly agree and would proceed to tell numerous stories of my ignorant selfishness.

Pretty much since the age of 12, I would be told to cook dinner for the house if my dad was working overtime at work, since he was bi-vocational. For my mom, service is second nature; she’s always looking out for others’ benefit. Unfortunately, we live in a fallen nature where motives and intent are still in question because deceit and manipulation are real problems, so observation and discernment are needed.

Nothing hurts more than watching people take your family for granted. Outside looking in, some people believe you have this perfect family that doesn’t have any issues or problems. I would express my frustrations with statements like “did you not listen to the sermons where I was the example on something crazy I did.”

Emotions are weird. How they are expressed can be even stranger. I don’t typically express my emotions visibly. I tend to think through my emotions and feelings. I deconstruct my emotions to the depth of what’s going on internally. I can be highly emotional internally. How it’s expressed is typically through small group conversations or through my writing.

Growing up in a first family at church, a particular piece of writing came about, born through some of my frustrations.

Contempt

The assumption of this perfect family led to a lot of contempt for our family. To find out people relish in your misery, especially those who say they love and care for you, hurts quite a bit. When you’ve seen your parents pour out so much for others and in their time of need, not many people are there to help. That level of contempt for your parents is passed on to you, just because of association, not complaining. Still, it’s the reality of the situation.

People want to see you fail, fall, and drop your standards. It’s tempting and would be so much easier to shut people up, but is it worth it? The depth of my frustration was expressed in a piece I wrote in 2012 when I was 19, titled Façade. It was supposed to be a poem for a creative writing course in college, but it turned more into a rant. The rant masquerades like a poem, so it’s technically a facade as well.

Merriam-Webster defines façade:

“a false, superficial, or artificial appearance or effect”.

Facade

You see me, but I am just an illusion

You believe this is truly me, but what you really see is just fabricated

You see me as kind and compassionate, but I really detest the sight of you

—

There are many of us who fabricate what we want others to see us as

Or perhaps we put on this illusion because we are scared of what we truly are

Our array of emotions and feelings are just fragile pieces of glass

So we put up a façade that we believe is an impenetrable fortress

But that too, shatters just as easily as glass

—

Who truly knows the real you

You have a façade for your parents

But on the other hand, you have one for your friends

And then another for others

You have so many façades that you do not know who is you

—

We classify some people as schizophrenic

But we as a people have the same problem, just with better control of it

We criticize people who hold true to their convictions, but do not have any of our own

We are quick to say that someone is fake, but we too are fake of what we portray

Hypocrite, who are you to decide who is fake

—

Not all use a façade to hide behind

But many are guilty of it

Dare to be yourself

Don’t hide behind something as fragile as a façade

It’s just an illusion that you have fabricated