Vicarious: “shared in by imagined participation in another’s experience”
Intimacy: “the state of having a close, personal relationship with someone”
Intimate relationship: “an interpersonal relationship involving physical or emotional intimacy”
Pain: “what inevitably occurs when you’re in ministry”
The first three definitions are paraphrases from Webster. The last? Mine. And it’s 100% accurate. Doesn’t take a genius to predict that a train wreck is going to occur, and it’s the spouse who could be left—even decades later—with an infected, open wound. What to do?
Years ago, Craig was a pastor at a dynamic church. We were growing and serving the community and attracting new members constantly; it was exactly the kind of church that Craig was made for, one that was truly making a difference. All that came with a cost, however: The pastors worked in high-pressure positions where success was expected. In many ways, ministry won out over marriage and family, and I was feeling the intense stress personally—and from the complaints of the spouses of the other pastors.
I was already feeling some anxiety on that Sunday morning, but I had no idea my personal train wreck was imminent.
As was typical, I’d hurried into the morning service, running a bit late from greeting several people after Sunday school and in the hallways. And since the church was so large, I didn’t know any of the people sitting around me. I would be incredibly thankful for that small blessing during the sermon. Because that day the pastor chose to preach on the call and description of elders/pastors—with a stern side lecture on how committed they need to be, always. I took it as intimating his team wasn’t committed, wasn’t working hard enough. Instantly, I felt slapped, and in seconds I noticed my breathing take a huge tick upward. During the following worship song, the pounding of my heart became so loud I was afraid those on either of side of me could hear, and in the next minute…I realized I had to get out of there. Immediately. I fled for the side door, knowing it would take me around the back hallways to Craig’s office. Where I could hide.
That was my one and only full throttle panic attack. I started counseling the next week and asked Craig for the gift—and it was a huge request—to stay home from church for the next three months while I healed. My gracious husband has always fully supported me; he didn’t let me down this time, either. And before I did go back to church—which the pastor had noted and quizzed Craig about—Craig and I met with him and his wife, where I confronted him on what he’d said and how I felt about his accusation. I can’t say that we were fully reconciled after that, but we managed a functioning relationship.
From that experience, I learned the amazing depth, strength and hold that vicarious pain has on a spouse—and especially the spouse of a leader in ministry. These are the lessons that I gleaned:
- DON’T attempt to deny, bury or short-cut the journey through pain. As with grief, any attempts to avoid or shorten the journey will only leave an unfinished ocean of feelings to wade through at some point later. You must go through it, entirely. And that takes work.
- DON’T continue to consider yourself a victim. Yes, you were made a victim when the pain entered your life. But you have the power to choose: I will not stay here. If you’re a victim forever, you’re powerless. If you reject a victim mentality, you have the power of the Holy Spirit within to choose healing, and all the power of the universe is available to you.
- DON’T add guilt, remorse or embarrassment to your pain. You hurt! You did not seek this. It must be attended to and processed.
- DON’T embrace it. I totally reject that description. You’re not required to “hug” your pain, but you must go through it. That’s an important distinction in my estimation.
- DON’T feel a need to justify or validate the legitimacy of your feelings.
- DO find a counsellor or trusted friend to listen to you. Ironically, that person’s empathy will indeed work to validate what you’re feeling. And that encourages your healing.
- DO attend whatever healing meetings your spouse attends, if possible. For another deeply painful experience that we suffered, pastors apologized to Craig, laid hands on him, wept, and prayed for him. I didn’t even consider attending—wasn’t invited. But I should have been there. Merely hearing secondhand about apologies or meetings is of little to no help to your healing, unfortunately.
- DON’T get trapped in the “If we’d only” wishes cycle. Like water in the sink, you’ll circle right down the drain in an endless, self-harming way. Deal with the reality of what is.
- DO be good to yourself. I needed three months to heal; you might need less, or more. Take what you need. But also, give yourself a goal, a reasonable time limit, if you will. Open-ended periods could lend themselves to more problems, additional pain—possibly between you and your spouse, who needs to hear you do have a plan, a goal in mind.
- DO recognize that you also might feel anger towards your spouse—anger for getting you into this hurtful situation. It may not at all be your spouse’s fault, but you could still feel angry, irrational as it might be. Your anger might also be directed towards God. Admitting all of this…getting it out…are all necessary steps to healing. But carefully consider and pray about how and what you say to your spouse. Remember: You can never take back those words.
- DO continue to pro-actively work on your marriage during your healing process, especially if both of you are still in pain. Tell yourself: Losing each other is not an option.
Is any of this easy? Absolutely not. But I am here to testify that the process can be slogged through…with healing on the other side. Do I still have the scars? Again, absolutely I do. But through it all, I also can testify that God bathed those journeys with his love, mercy and grace.
Recently I put John 16:33 to memory, and it encourages my soul every time I repeat it: “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”