My early childhood idol was Reggie White, a defensive end for the Green Bay Packers. Number 92 represented everything I wanted... and everything I thought that I "should" want in life. He was an outstanding football player for the Packers from August to February, and then from March to July he was a preacher, like my dad.
I wanted to play football when I was a kid. That really was the sum of my life's ambition at that point. Now that I'm older, I've come to realize that it's not just the game of football that I love, but the competition, the human confrontation, and the drama that unfolds as rivals clash on the gridiron. I love the story behind the plays. I love the week in between games that affords fans and analysts and commentators the opportunity to debate, criticize, and admonish all the events that took place in the last game.
Anyway, I wanted to play football for the Green Bay Packers when I grew up. Why? Because I loved football. That love came from within me. Nobody told me that I should play football. Nobody tried to convince me or the moral values behind such a vocation. I just loved the game.
But I also felt compelled to follow after my dad's footsteps... to be a minister. That's why Reggie White was such an appealing figure to me. He was both. And I figured if he could do both, then I could too, and thus fulfill the expectations I felt were imposed upon me as a PK, as well as my hopes and dreams for what I wanted for my life.
The football dream eventually faded away. I realized probably in 9th grade when I tried tackling Tyler Raymond (a hulk of a freshman who played running back on our team) in practice and ended up flat on my back. The coach decided this would be a great time to teach me how to have football toughness, and so he called the exact same play about 10 times in a row until I finally tackled Tyler without ended up on my back. (To this day, I believe that Tyler let me make the tackle so the offense could work on a different play.) I realized that professional football was probably not for me.
Ministry was another matter. Ministry was realistic. I realized I could still have that half of Reggie, and make a living.
I didn't want to go into college undeclared, so I just picked ministry and figured I'd switch if I didn't like it. There were two types of classes -- ones which were theological, philosophical, historical... the world of ideas... and then there were the ones which were practical... preaching, youth ministry, pastoral care and counseling, church leadership, etc.
I loved all of the classes having to do with ideas.
But I hated all of the practical classes. They filled me with anxiety. I didn't realize this until later, but I felt like I would never be able to actually do the things we were learning. And even if I could do these things one time or even a handful of times, the next week would always be looming... I felt as if a career in ministry would be like just waiting around until I finally failed and got found out as a phony.
I never felt called to ministry. I just did it. It was that boyhood dream of wanting to follow in my dad's footsteps. He is a great man... he is a great dad. But I am not him... I am not able to be like him. That's how God made him, but he made me different than that.
I'm still in the process of trying to figure out what's next for my life. Right now, I work at a Boys and Girls Club on the LCO Reservation, and I feel like maybe this is a good "Midian" kind of place for me, which is the place Moses ran after trying to liberate the Hebrews by violent force. Midian was a healing time for Moses... a time to get married... rediscover himself. But eventually Moses was called out of Midian, and I believe that the Club will not be my final destination.
What about you? Do you feel called to ministry? Or do you feel compelled? Does church stuff give you joy? Or is it hard for you to live the way your dad/mom lives?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Know Thyself
One of the biggest challenges of having a pastor parent is that it is hard for a pastor's kid to discover and come to grips with their own identity.
I can honestly say that I had no idea who I was back in my adolescent years. Sure, I did certain things intuitively, and avoided certain situations because of natural likes/dislikes inherent with my personality, but I was not self-aware, and that was dangerous for me. When you don't know who you are, it leaves you open to be defined by others and their agendas for your life. The road to happiness and deep fulfillment is the road of self discovery.
MBTI - This link goes to a free website for a pseudo-MBTI personality assessment (okay, so purists will say that the MBTI is not a personality assessment, but a type indicator, but that's basically what it is in layman's terms).
My MBTI type is INFP. Here's just a snippet of what that means:
Based on Jung’s framework of mental functions - by Joe Butt
Extroverted iNtuition
Extraverted intuition faces outward, greeting the world on behalf of Feeling. What the observer usually sees is creativity with implied good will. Intuition spawns this type's philosophical bent and strengthens pattern perception. It combines as auxiliary with introverted Feeling and gives rise to unusual skill in both character development and fluency with language--a sound basis for the development of literary facility. If INTPs aspire to word mechanics, INFPs would be verbal artists.
Introverted Sensing
Sensing is introverted and often invisible. This stealth function in the third position gives INFPs a natural inclination toward absent- mindedness and other-worldliness, however, Feeling's strong people awareness provides a balancing, mitigating effect. This introverted Sensing is somewhat categorical, a subdued version of SJ sensing. In the third position, however, it is easily overridden by the stronger functions.
I can honestly say that I had no idea who I was back in my adolescent years. Sure, I did certain things intuitively, and avoided certain situations because of natural likes/dislikes inherent with my personality, but I was not self-aware, and that was dangerous for me. When you don't know who you are, it leaves you open to be defined by others and their agendas for your life. The road to happiness and deep fulfillment is the road of self discovery.
MBTI - This link goes to a free website for a pseudo-MBTI personality assessment (okay, so purists will say that the MBTI is not a personality assessment, but a type indicator, but that's basically what it is in layman's terms).
My MBTI type is INFP. Here's just a snippet of what that means:
Functional Analysis Of The INFP
Based on Jung’s framework of mental functions - by Joe Butt
Introverted Feeling
INFPs live primarily in a rich inner world of introverted Feeling. Being inward-turning, the natural attraction is away from world and toward essence and ideal. This introversion of dominant Feeling, receiving its data from extraverted intuition, must be the source of the quixotic nature of these usually gentle beings. Feeling is caught in the approach- avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it homo sapiens or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind.
INFPs live primarily in a rich inner world of introverted Feeling. Being inward-turning, the natural attraction is away from world and toward essence and ideal. This introversion of dominant Feeling, receiving its data from extraverted intuition, must be the source of the quixotic nature of these usually gentle beings. Feeling is caught in the approach- avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it homo sapiens or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind.
Extroverted iNtuition
Extraverted intuition faces outward, greeting the world on behalf of Feeling. What the observer usually sees is creativity with implied good will. Intuition spawns this type's philosophical bent and strengthens pattern perception. It combines as auxiliary with introverted Feeling and gives rise to unusual skill in both character development and fluency with language--a sound basis for the development of literary facility. If INTPs aspire to word mechanics, INFPs would be verbal artists.
Introverted Sensing
Sensing is introverted and often invisible. This stealth function in the third position gives INFPs a natural inclination toward absent- mindedness and other-worldliness, however, Feeling's strong people awareness provides a balancing, mitigating effect. This introverted Sensing is somewhat categorical, a subdued version of SJ sensing. In the third position, however, it is easily overridden by the stronger functions.
Extroverted Thinking
The INFP may turn to inferior extraverted Thinking for help in focusing on externals and for closure. INFPs can even masquerade in their ESTJ business suit, but not without expending considerable energy. The inferior, problematic nature of Extraverted Thinking is its lack of context and proportion. Single impersonal facts may loom large or attain higher priority than more salient principles which are all but overlooked.
courtesy of www.humanmetrics.com
The INFP may turn to inferior extraverted Thinking for help in focusing on externals and for closure. INFPs can even masquerade in their ESTJ business suit, but not without expending considerable energy. The inferior, problematic nature of Extraverted Thinking is its lack of context and proportion. Single impersonal facts may loom large or attain higher priority than more salient principles which are all but overlooked.
courtesy of www.humanmetrics.com
The Oppressive Spotlight - The Illusion of the Stage
Does it ever feel like you're being... watched?
One of the toughest parts of a childhood as a PK is the feeling that you're being consistently observed and scrutinized by people in the congregation. I call this, "The Oppressive Spotlight," because it feels like you're an actor up on a stage, except you can never get off of it. The reality is that (fair or not) your pastor parent will be judged by how his/her children behave. After all, haven't we all heard it said at one point or another, "If he doesn't have control over his own household, how is he supposed to lead the church?" Or something to that effect. Maybe sometimes it's merely thought and felt, rather than spoken, but that pressure is definitely there. The result is that you feel way more pressure than a "normal" kid might feel, because you're not only representing yourself, but your parents as well.
Let me start by saying that this feeling is very real, and mostly valid. Pastor's kids are held to impossibly high standard in most churches. They are expected to know all of the Bible verses and Sunday school answers, to behave in a manner that is consistent with Scripture, and to be a model of what a good Christian youth looks like, which all the peasant children (sarcasm intended) should strive to become. It's no big deal if a "normal kid" goes over to a friend's house on Saturday night and doesn't come to church the next day. But if a pastor's kid were to skip church, it'd be scandalous. If you're a pastor's kid and the Sunday school offering envelope passes you by and you don't put anything into it, it's like you're not only committing a sin against God and the Sunday school teacher, but leading the rest of the class into sin as well.
For me, at least part of the Oppressive Spotlight Syndrome was purely psychological, as I somehow convinced myself that I was far more important than I really was. It's probable that half that spotlight feeling was totally imagined.
But even if nobody cared how I acted, I still felt like I needed to do my best to be the "good Christian boy" and never do anything which would cause my parents or God or people in the church any grief.
If you feel this way, listen up:
First, you need to realize that you cannot be perfect. Even if you will it with every ounce of your vitality, you will fall short. God has forgiven you and has extended his grace to you. If the perfect, holy God of the Universe is willing to forgive and forget, it's okay to cut yourself some slack. Don't buy into other people's lofty expectations for your life. Be who you are.
Second, you need a small, but healthy dose of apathy in regards to how other people view you. Sure, you want to be respected and have a good reputation, but in the words of one of the wisest people I've ever met, "Lighten up; let a fart!" Try not to take yourself or other people too seriously. Realize that God doesn't need you to fulfill his plan for the world.
The Oppressive Spotlight is pretty tough to deal with. It's makes it hard for you be yourself. But don't give up; half of it is probably in your head, and the other half just doesn't matter that much.
One of the toughest parts of a childhood as a PK is the feeling that you're being consistently observed and scrutinized by people in the congregation. I call this, "The Oppressive Spotlight," because it feels like you're an actor up on a stage, except you can never get off of it. The reality is that (fair or not) your pastor parent will be judged by how his/her children behave. After all, haven't we all heard it said at one point or another, "If he doesn't have control over his own household, how is he supposed to lead the church?" Or something to that effect. Maybe sometimes it's merely thought and felt, rather than spoken, but that pressure is definitely there. The result is that you feel way more pressure than a "normal" kid might feel, because you're not only representing yourself, but your parents as well.
Let me start by saying that this feeling is very real, and mostly valid. Pastor's kids are held to impossibly high standard in most churches. They are expected to know all of the Bible verses and Sunday school answers, to behave in a manner that is consistent with Scripture, and to be a model of what a good Christian youth looks like, which all the peasant children (sarcasm intended) should strive to become. It's no big deal if a "normal kid" goes over to a friend's house on Saturday night and doesn't come to church the next day. But if a pastor's kid were to skip church, it'd be scandalous. If you're a pastor's kid and the Sunday school offering envelope passes you by and you don't put anything into it, it's like you're not only committing a sin against God and the Sunday school teacher, but leading the rest of the class into sin as well.
For me, at least part of the Oppressive Spotlight Syndrome was purely psychological, as I somehow convinced myself that I was far more important than I really was. It's probable that half that spotlight feeling was totally imagined.
But even if nobody cared how I acted, I still felt like I needed to do my best to be the "good Christian boy" and never do anything which would cause my parents or God or people in the church any grief.
If you feel this way, listen up:
First, you need to realize that you cannot be perfect. Even if you will it with every ounce of your vitality, you will fall short. God has forgiven you and has extended his grace to you. If the perfect, holy God of the Universe is willing to forgive and forget, it's okay to cut yourself some slack. Don't buy into other people's lofty expectations for your life. Be who you are.
Second, you need a small, but healthy dose of apathy in regards to how other people view you. Sure, you want to be respected and have a good reputation, but in the words of one of the wisest people I've ever met, "Lighten up; let a fart!" Try not to take yourself or other people too seriously. Realize that God doesn't need you to fulfill his plan for the world.
The Oppressive Spotlight is pretty tough to deal with. It's makes it hard for you be yourself. But don't give up; half of it is probably in your head, and the other half just doesn't matter that much.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Introductions
My name is Ryan Wilson, and I grew up in a pastor's home. My father, Mark Wilson, is the pastor of a Wesleyan Church in Hayward, WI. The town sign says, "Population 2381"; the church has about 550 people. So basically, a fourth of the town goes to this one church.
I'm going to be writing some stuff on this blog to help pastor's kids work through some of the junk that probably only pastor's kids understand. I want you to understand that I had a great childhood, and I'm happy for the way my family is. I love our church, and I love our town. In fact after college, I moved back to Hayward, and I am now working at a Boys and Girls Club on the LCO Native American Reservation. Some of what I write may sound like being a pastor's kid is the worst, and sometimes it can feel that way, but I hope you realize that there a lot of good things about being a PK too. But I'm writing this blog to be helpful, and so I am devoting these flickering pixels to addressing the unique challenges that accompany life as a PK.
With that said, I hope some of my experiences may be helpful to you. I hope that if you are a PK, you will realize through this blog that 1) you're not alone, 2) you're not a terrible person for feeling the way that you sometimes do about the church, and 3) you may choose your own path.
I will conclude this inaugural post with a poem by Robert Frost, with which I have no doubt you are familiar (probably from a sermon your parent preached!). Familiarity breeds unfamiliarity, however, so with new eyes, soak in the wisdom from Frost's words.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I'm going to be writing some stuff on this blog to help pastor's kids work through some of the junk that probably only pastor's kids understand. I want you to understand that I had a great childhood, and I'm happy for the way my family is. I love our church, and I love our town. In fact after college, I moved back to Hayward, and I am now working at a Boys and Girls Club on the LCO Native American Reservation. Some of what I write may sound like being a pastor's kid is the worst, and sometimes it can feel that way, but I hope you realize that there a lot of good things about being a PK too. But I'm writing this blog to be helpful, and so I am devoting these flickering pixels to addressing the unique challenges that accompany life as a PK.With that said, I hope some of my experiences may be helpful to you. I hope that if you are a PK, you will realize through this blog that 1) you're not alone, 2) you're not a terrible person for feeling the way that you sometimes do about the church, and 3) you may choose your own path.
I will conclude this inaugural post with a poem by Robert Frost, with which I have no doubt you are familiar (probably from a sermon your parent preached!). Familiarity breeds unfamiliarity, however, so with new eyes, soak in the wisdom from Frost's words.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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