You probably think of a minister’s wife having a strait-laced, sober lifestyle. This has not been my experience! One thing about this situation in life is that you are oftentimes caught off guard, or by surprise, by the turn of events. Nonetheless, having been the wife of a preacher over the last 50 years I have acquired skills that have equipped me for survival in almost any circumstance.

I have had many experiences that seemed earth shattering at the time. Now that I am older, they seem much less traumatic. One instance that I will relate happened on a typically hectic Sunday morning. At that time my boys were just babies and getting ready to go anyplace could be quite a chore.

On this particular morning things had not gone as smoothy as I had planned, and departure time came before I had myself and the kids completely ready. So, gathering up all the essential articles–bottles, diapers, socks, shoes, and other things that had not been attached to the appropriate person yet–I jammed them into a bag and hurried to the car.

Children in the back, adults in the front. That was the normal arrangement. But on that morning, I knew it would be easier if I sat in the back seat with the kids. From there it would be much easier to finish the amenities of dressing the two toddlers. Besides, it would be better than the wrestling match that would ensue from leaning across the front seat trying to complete the task.

It was about a 35-minute drive to the church where my husband was pastor at the time. We were almost to the church. We still had to go through town. The church was about a mile outside the city limits. I was thinking, ” If only three of the next six traffic lights stop us, we can still make it on time.”

By this time things had settled down in the back seat. After fifteen minutes of rough and tumble with the little ones their socks and shoes were on, and their hair had been combed into place. I breathed a sigh and sat back to catch my breath.

In the middle of town was a traffic light where we had to make a left turn. On the corner of this intersection sat the City First Baptist Church. The Sunday morning crowd had started gathering out front of the church preparing to go inside for worship.

As we approached the intersection the traffic light turned yellow, then red. When the car came to a stop, I decided it would be a good time for me to change from the back seat to the front. Arriving at the church with the preacher in the front and his wife in the back might look strange. I informed my husband of my intentions. Then opening the back door, I stepped out onto the pavement.

As the door clicked shut behind me several things happened at once. The light turned green. My loving husband, deeply immersed in his sermon for the day, released the brake and pulled away, leaving me standing aghast in the middle of the street directly in front of the First Baptist Church.

Quite taken aback, I whirled around to see the congregation on the steps of the church looking questioningly in my direction. I quickly regained my composure. Taking several running steps toward the departing vehicle I screamed, “Come back, you crazy thing!!” (Later, I was to be thankful that I was not given to profanity in stressful situations).

Although the car was tightly closed against the autumn chill, the preacher heard me quite clearly from several yards away. I saw the brake lights flash on as my cries reached his ears.

Turning the car around seemed to take ages as I stood waiting at the curb with my back to the curious congregation of the First Baptist. When the car finally stopped at the curb, I got into the car, planted myself securely in the front seat, and forcefully slammed the door.

I turned to look at the tear-streaked faces of my babies. It had not been my cries of desperation as I had thought, but their frantic pleas of “Daddy, please don’t leave our Mommie!” that had brought about my retrieval.

With a stricken look on his face, my husband tried to convince me that the abandonment had not been intentional. “I was meditating on the message and did not know you had gotten out of the car,” he pleaded. It seemed pre-meditated to me,…and to the congregation at the intersection!

Before we drove away, he placed his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I stiffened, expecting an apology for the humiliation I had suffered. Instead, he said, ” I think it would be better if we didn’t mention this to anybody.”

Deflated, I slumped against him and solemnly agreed. The traffic light turned green, and with the congregation of the First Baptist still watching we pulled away from the curb.