True Life: I grew up as a PK

For those of you who are not familiar with the term, "PK" it means, Pastor's kid.
There are plenty of stereotypes that come with being a PK and I believe when Tyler told his mom he was interested in a girl from Pennsylvania and she was a pastor's kid, she responded with a worried, "Oh dear."

However, I like to think I wasn't just another pastor's daughter who rebelled against the church, never stepped foot into a church after going off to college, and got a bunch of tattoos and piercings.
(I guess I did end up with a tattoo......)

I actually loved my church family and felt they were just a natural extension of my actual family. I looked forward to going every week and I maintained some relationships that I formed with that community.

At the same time, there were plenty of things I didn't particularly like.
     I felt like I was put under a microscope and expected to be perfect. I knew if I made a "bad" choice, it would be talked about more than normal only because of the family I came from.
     I was referred to as "gospel girl" which didn't necessarily bother me, but it was annoying.
     Not only was my dad's job at the funeral home demanding, but a lot of his free time was taken up by deeds that had to be done at the church. But, I should add, he rarely missed any of my brother and I's events.

I didn't see myself marrying a pastor. I didn't have an idea of what I wanted my future husband to do as a career, but I didn't see him being a pastor.

And here we are...
Tyler is a pastor and I am now not only a pastor's kid, but a pastor's wife.

It is a beautiful thing, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have it's struggles.
     I feel like our family is under a microscope.
     Tyler has to go to meetings that take up some of our evenings and preparing teachings takes up a lot of time.

But, I am once again, blessed to be apart of a community that feels like family. It is a familiar, childhood feeling being around these people.
I am learning what it means to be a pastor's wife and I luckily have many women surrounding me with encouraging, uplifting, and loving words.

Last night, we had an event for one of our sister churches. There wasn't childcare provided so I was anxious to take Landon. He doesn't sit still very well and he likes to talk and giggle. But, to my surprise (with a few exceptions), he was on his best behavior. He was content eating crackers, playing with whatever I could find in his bag, and looking at the people who were looking at him. And he loved watching his Papa play music.

I also discovered he knows how to use a pencil. As I watched him drawing with his piece of paper that was support by a hymnal, I thought to myself, he is living the life I grew up in. I can't count how many pictures I drew during my dad's sermons. I was impressed that his scribbling lasted fifteen whole minutes!

This is his first church, service, masterpiece. 

I'm excited to see how his drawings evolve over the years.