My wife said, "i've had enough!"

Group, Sep/Oct 2002 by McKee, Jonathan, Miller, James

How a skilled, successful youth pastor's lifestyle drove his wife out the door, and the real-world lessons he's since learned about balance.

I'll never forget the moment my wife walked out on me because she just couldn't stomach my youth ministry lifestyle anymore. She scooped up our kids and headed for the door.. the fire in her eyes and in her walk told me this was no grocery-store run.

It was a typical Sunday afternoon. We'd just finished the barely organized chaos that marked all our Sundayscramming our kids into the car for the ride to church and back, opening the door to a surprise visit from a staffer who wanted to let me know a kid had committed his life to Christ, and talking to a mom on the phone who was calling to ask if I could meet with her daughter right away. Despite my wife's pleas for help with household tasks, I was off to rescue another family.

At that moment I had no idea that my own family needed rescuing.

Right about then my wife got the kids ready to leavegathering her things and stuffing them into a bag. I asked her where she was going. She said, "I don't know-but I can't do this anymore." And she was out of there.

I was shocked. It was one of those wide-eyed Alfred Hitchcock moments where the background slowly pulls away from the foreground. I'd seen this familiar scene on TV but never thought it could happen to me. I ran after her and asked: "Are you leaving me?" She didn't even turn to look at me. She just stopped and said, quietly, "I just need some time."

That was seven years ago. My son was a toddler and my daughter was barely two months old. My ministry was going like a rocket. We had a senior high outreach program that maxed out my garage every Tuesday night and a junior high program that packed the rafters every Wednesday. Each Thursday I brought unchurched kids to a local church group. Weekends were always jammed with ministry events.

At all hours we had staffers and students in and out of our house. And on top of that, I had kids coming to Christ left and right I was blinded by my success-that's why I never saw the crisis coming.

desperate measures

I can't blame my wife for trying to find an escape hatch. I'd been working 70-hour weeks while she was working a "part-time" schedule that was really more like 30 or 40 hours a week. She was basically taking care of our house and raising our kids on her own because I was convinced I was too busy to help. Meanwhile, she had to deal with all the meetings, programs, live-in teenagers, and surprise visits from staffers and kids. It was too much.

I didn't come to my senses until she was in the garage loading up the kids. I literally fell on my knees in front of her, begging her to stay. But she was too far gone. Finally, out of desperation, I promised her that right then I would make any change to my schedule she wanted. In that moment I was willing to quit my job if that would stop her from leaving.

She agreed to go back inside and talk about it. We got the kids situated on the floor to play, I opened my planner, and we made a list of things that had to change. I consolidated staff meetings, moved the outreach programs out of my house, blocked out Sunday afternoons, and added a date night once a week. I still have the list. I saved it as a reminder of what I almost lost.

balancing priorities

If you asked a Christian plumber to make a list of his life priorities, it might look like this: (1) God (2) family (3) friends (4) job (5) watching football.

If you asked a typical youth worker the same question, you'd likely get a list that looks like this: (1) God/ministry/kids in need (2) family (3) friends (4) watching football.

What are the ramifications? Well, one might be losing your family because you told them they need to get in line behind every other needy kid in the city who doesn't happen to have your DNA.

So how do we balance family and ministry? Or maybe the better question is, "How can I love and nurture troubled kids without troubling and abandoning my own kids?" On one side of the coin, our families must understand that a minister is called by God to a mission, and they must be ready to make sacrifices for that calling. On the other side of the coin, it's a twisted calling that requires us to sacrifice our families to reach other people's families. Let's just call that what it is-neglect.

Paul lays out the requirements for Christian leaders in Titus 1:6: "An elder must be blameless, the husband of but one wife, a man whose children believe and are not open to the charge of being wild and disobedient."

If we neglect our family for the sake of the ministry, we aren't worthy of Christian leadership. Proverbs 31:27-28 says: "She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her." Paul nails what's expected of us even more strongly in Ephesians 5:25: "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."

Youth workers have no special dispensation to give our families the short end of the stick. Before we can lead, we must make sure we're raising our own kids right; we must love our spouse with the same passion that Christ had on the cross. This is no easy path. And I don't have a silver bullet. But I do have some insights that I paid a high price to get.