Sometimes it seems there are demonic forces assigned to disrupt the families of pastors on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings. A flat tire, a marital spat, an argumentative teenager, or a screaming toddler can be enough to make us question our calling before we even leave the driveway.

We can smile while stepping onto a platform to preach. But when the service ends and the adrenaline stops pumping, it’s back to life in a fallen world.

Back to household financial worries. Back to spilled milk and clogged drains. Back to the hard work of marriage and parenting. Back to daily realities that are often less than ideal.

Is this the way ministry is supposed to look? First Timothy 3:2–7 sets a high bar for church leaders. Among other things, leaders should be above reproach, faithful, temperate, self-controlled, and respectable.

Finally, Paul said leaders must manage their families well and see that their children are obedient — doing all this “in a manner worthy of full respect.”

If only I had a quarter for every time one of our six children has disobeyed my husband or me during our 13 years of parenting. As the old joke goes, ministry would be so simple if it weren’t for people. And some days, those people are my own family members.

Of course, it’s not just them. I wish I could say I’ve never raised my voice, missed an appointment, or dropped the ball on something that was important to my husband or kids. In such moments, I hardly feel above reproach.

There are times when it seems as though my list of failures is longer than Paul’s list of qualifications. Parents commonly wrestle with feelings of guilt, but ministry can add another layer of impossible expectations.

We have a big family, built through foster care and adoption. With a mix of races, ethnicities, histories, struggles, and traumas, our home life is anything but typical. Our kids have needs and ways of expressing themselves that are challenging at times. We depend on God each day — and often lean on a team of experts and therapists.

Although it has been a rewarding journey, there are days when the strain is overwhelming. I’ve sat in my church office wondering how I could serve as an example to God’s people while feeling like a poor, broken imitation. To paraphrase 1 Timothy 3:5, if I don’t know how to manage my own household, how can I take care of God’s church?

It might seem like the biblical standard for ministry families is nothing less than perfection, but we need to keep this text in proper perspective. Paul’s purpose was not to uphold marital bliss and parental success as litmus tests for ministers.

In fact, Paul was unmarried and otherwise exalted the single life (1 Corinthians 7). Virtue lists like the one in 1 Timothy 3 were not about the understood exceptions, nor were they exhaustive.

So what should we do when the desire for a perfect life collides with real life?

Pride and Perfection

My reality often deviates from the flawless images and shining reports I see other ministers posting on social media.

If I’m willing to sacrifice appropriate transparency for a public performance, I may soon sacrifice personal integrity for public affirmation.

In a world of carefully curated personas, not only can I perceive my shortcomings, but I assume everyone else can as well. I’m tempted to cover up the struggles and put on an act. After all, my credibility is on the line, right?

Wrong. It’s my pride on the line — and that can be a slippery slope. If I’m willing to sacrifice appropriate transparency for a public performance, I may soon sacrifice personal integrity for public affirmation.

Paul’s leadership concerns come into sharper view as his letter continues. In 1 Timothy 3:14–15, Paul wrote, “Although I hope to come to you soon, I’m writing you these instructions so that, if I am delayed, you will know how people ought to conduct themselves in God’s household, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth.”

Telling Timothy to safeguard the gospel, Paul warned him of troublemakers, false teachers, and “hypocritical liars” who would lead some people away from God’s truth (4:2).

In today’s world, there are platforms everywhere, but truth can be harder to find. I am not the only one comparing my marriage, children, kitchen, and even spirituality to the influencers of this world.

Our congregants do not need contrived perfection, and neither do our families. They need authentic leaders who are men and women of respect and honesty.

Communities need pastors people will look at and say, “I can begin to believe in Jesus, because I believe you.”

This is the kind of character Paul described. This is the type of leader who represents God’s household well.

Getting Real

One Sunday, our family was dealing with multiple crises we could have kept hidden. Only a few close friends knew the details of what I wanted to sweep under the proverbial rug.

My smile could have been plastered on until the people were gone and I was left alone in the sanctuary. But I had to be real with God about my questions, pain, and anxiety.

So instead of faking anything, I decided to be real with my congregation as well. I didn’t give any details they didn’t need to know, and I was careful not to tell anyone else’s story or overshare.

I simply said, “Our family is dealing with a lot right now. It’s hard. And since you are all real people and have real lives, you’ve probably had hard weeks, too. So if I don’t hang out a lot after service, or if I’m not smiling as much as usual, please know we love you, and we appreciate your prayers while we’re on this journey.”

That morning, I felt disqualified walking up to the platform, but God reminded me once again He qualifies the called. The Holy Spirit used the Word and my time of sermon study to minister to everyone in that room, including me. And my honesty allowed our church to grow as a place of wholeness and healing.

We laughed when something was funny and cried when something was sad, sometimes doing both within the same conversation. We didn’t fake it until we made it. Rather, we fought the good fight of faith and allowed others to help us tangibly and intangibly.

I received more grace for myself and our family life. And others opened up about their struggles instead of pretending to be something they weren’t.

As kindness invited confession, parents began praying for children who were spiritually lost, couples sought counseling for their marital problems, and everyday hardships became opportunities for discipleship.

When leaders build on a firm foundation of integrity, health, and faith, ministry flourishes in a way that survives life’s difficulties.

My perfectly imperfect life is a gift from God. Every day, I strive to honor Him and point others to Him, so we all may “take hold of the life that is truly life” (1 Timothy 6:19).

This article appears in the Spring 2023 issue of Influence magazine.