This is a story.

In every wonderful epic story, there is always someone who has the power, or potion, or formula to heal the hero.  The hero returns from battle exhausted and bleeding, covered in sweat and dirt, but don’t worry.  One drop from the ethereal pretty girl’s glowing glass bottle, and he’s good as new.  Or one trance-like soprano vocalise from a girl who glows, herself, and his resolve and purpose is renewed, not to mention his wounds go away.

If there’s anyone I want to be, it’s the girl in those stories.  Ministry can feel like a battle sometimes.  (This is not to say that it’s not also an incredible blessing, but for today’s perspective…)  My husband fights the “front lines,” so to speak.  The only difference is that you can’t see the blows that have been dealt.  There’s no blood oozing through his tweed suit that someone bought him and made him wear.  There’s no cheering him on from his comrades and no parade when he accomplishes a goal.  For the most part, I’m the only one who can see what’s going on in his heart.

I’m exaggerating, maybe the illustration is too dramatic.  But there are definitely side effects to being a full-time minister, not to mention a student as well.  These last couple of weeks have been some of our most stressful ever.  We’ve never been as tight financially as we are now.  Kevin has that burden.  He’s been preparing for the biggest test of his life.  He’s been dealing with some unpleasant things (dare I say… unpleasant people?) at church.  He’s been working on a children’s musical and so many other things and staying late at church.  Goodness, there are so many things going on that are good, but require so much responsibility.  And he has a very hard time sleeping.

More than anything, I wish I could instantaneously glow away his stress.  I wish that I had some sort of beautiful, delicate glass bottle that was filled with never-ending sparkly goo, and at my discretion, the receiver of the goo would be soothed and rest like never before.  Gosh, I wish that were me!  What an awesome girl to have, you know?   Why can’t I just be a blueish angel wife?  

Oh.  It’s because I’m not his healer.  I don’t take his burdens, though I may share them.  He has a Healer.  He has a source of peace and rest.  The most I can do as a wife is to pass on the “potion,” or the words of Scripture, and encourage my husband in his trek/sometimes battle.  I get to help point him to his Healer.  I get to petition the Healer on his behalf.  That’s the stuff stories are made of.