This is my confession: I'm a Preacher's Kid, too.

I read with interest my fellow BOLD writer Carmen Fletcher's "Confessions of a Preacher Kid: Chelsea Stanton". I can relate. Me, too.

I actually come from a long ministerial line; my great-grandfather, Clarence, grandfather, Joseph, and grandmother, Bernice, all did pulpit time. In addition, my dad, stepmom, an uncle and a couple of cousins are carrying on the family legacy, and my brother most recently felt the call.

I, on the other hand, have no intention of donning any robe other than for the bath.

The other day, I was e-chatting with a friend from Chicago, who is also a PK. In the midst of decscribing her incredibly busy life, she mentioned belonging to a group of atheists/skeptics. Yesterday, while working on a post for my blog, my interview subject, a NYC vegan chef, shared how her grandfather was a pastor, but how she no longer belongs to any particular religion. She is, in her words, highly spiritual.


Oh, we Pks. Dusty Springfield famously sang, "The only one who could ever reach me/
Was the son of a preacher man/ The only boy who could ever teach me/ Was the son of a preacher man". Common raps in "Go", "Freaky like a daughter of a pastor/ said I was bait for her to master/ Little red corvette now she was faster". In pop music parlance, PK is short hand for undercover freak.

Carmen writes of the "common perception of Preacher Kids is that they are symbols of perfection...". Are we naughty? Are we nice?


Speaking as a PK, I'd say, we are both. Some of us are ministers. Some are atheists. Some don't like such labels. Some like to channel Prince and be that little red corvette. I, am quite comfortable, as previously stated, in my yellow bathrobe.

As I've grown older, I've learned to value some of the aspects of being a PK, such as being fluent in Christianese, having a boatload of Scriptures imprinted on my brain, and being able to sing the great American Christian Music songbook off the top of my head, from "At The Cross" to "I Am a Friend of God". On that last point though, please remember I said "sing" not "sing well". I don't wear choirrobes, either.

If I could give any advice to fellow PKs, it would be, like Chelsea, to make your own path in life. Although I'm a Christian, I haven't been a member of any of my family's churches since I graduated high school. Know God for yourself. Figure out what you believe and why you believe it. And lastly, try to cut your parents some slack. So they forced you to usher/lead youth group/teach Sunday School/go to Vacation Bible School. They aren't perfect, and neither are we.


Alisha De Freitas blogs at East of Eden.

Confessions of a Preacher Kid: Chelsea Stanton

 

 If you don't remember anything else

Remember this...

I believe your storm is over 

I believe your rain is gone away 

I believe you'll make it through it

I believe its already done

- "I believe" James Fortune   

 Lyrics that Chelsea Stanton hums and repeats to keep her grounded in faith in a secular world that is deemed unfit for the child of a Preacher. 

  The common perception of Preacher Kids is that they are symbols of perfection and because of that they are scrutinized to the 9th  degree for everything that they do whether good or bad. Your life is rightfully under the protective watch of your parents, but even more so by people who choose to 'throw stones' at any and everything you do. It is the closest thing to being a royal when you are surrounded by a tight community that looks to your family as a symbol of hopeful perfection. Such a role is a pestering honor when all the children want to do is live their lives. This is the story of Chelsea Stanton and how she broke free from the life of a Preacher Kid.

Chelsea (Right) and Sister (Left)
Photo provided by Chelsea

 Fortunately when Chelsea was growing up all of the scrutiny was coming from the outside and never within the home. Her father led a congregation while her mother ministered to small groups. Being a protective and realistic father, it was consistently reiterated to the congregation that his children are normal and they are going to make mistakes. Although that did not stop the watchful eyes in her town, Chelsea and her sister knew for a fact that their parents never expected perfection from them. As if the eyes and mouths around her were not scrutinizing enough, sometimes outsiders would react to her status negatively. 

"I think my biggest pet peeve would have to be the reaction I received from people when I told them I was a preacher's kid," Chelsea explains, " People would say 'preacher's kids are the worst' or they would tell me I was a 'goody two shoes'. That always created pressure for me. I was expected to be really bad or really good." 

These type of reactions made it harder for Chelsea to go through the normal childhood and teenage conflicts openly. Her parents did their level best to guard Chelsea and her sister from a secular childhood, by monitoring what they listened to, watched, or did outside the home; like most parents do. As she got older their actions made it harder for her to create a balance between a normal childhood and her heightened status. When peer pressure conflicts arose she would easily fall into the 'yes I can do it' trap and ended up ultimately feeling alone amongst friends because of the post-judgment of her actions.  Nevertheless she was always able to turn to her mother in a time of crisis or confusion. Her mother would pray with, but never preach to her so that the issue was always met at a mutual level of understanding. 

"Once I got a firm stance in my relationship with God, peer pressure no longer ruled over my life. I believe that because I am a Preacher's kid, the expectation for me to do well will always be higher. People are always going to expect more of me because of this label. As long as I meet the expectations of God, I don't care what people expect of me," Chelsea stated.

 

Despite the conflicts in her personal and 'preacher kid' life, at the age of 19 Chelsea was able to break free from judgmental eyes and the protective wings of her parents and pursue her dream through going to college in Atlanta, GA. It was not easy to part from her small western North Carolina town and leave her sister behind. However it was her faith that drew her away to start anew. As she grew her life in Atlanta she was consistently bombarded by normal adult life conflicts while still battling the inner conflict of not being good enough. This spiritual battle came from her childhood experiences that made her feel as if she made a mistake she disappointed her parents and worse herself. As she matured and gained more life experience she discovered that if she stayed focused on God, the feeling of not being good enough because of mistakes will not ruin her life. 

On her continuous path of discovery she made friends with people of all different faith backgrounds which strengthened her relationship with God. She values her faith even more because of the enlightenment provided by her interactions with all types of people. It is because of those interactions that she is continuing to pursue a career in criminal justice, so that she may be the spiritual warrior on the battlefield and inside the church. a When asked about her path to fulfill her dream Chelsea opened up about how our dreams and desires are truly God's plan laid out for us. 

"My dream is to raise a family to the best of my ability with the same faith-base I was raised under. I do want to pursue a career in the criminal justice field, but sometimes I believe the path God has chosen for me is ministry...no it's not just because my father is a pastor. I have always been taught as long as I am in God's plan my dreams are His desires for me. Fortunately my dreams were never criticized by outsiders and my parents fully support me in whatever I do. Even when I start to doubt my dreams my Mother always pulls me back on track," Chelsea stated.  

While Chelsea still has the stamp of Preacher's Kid, she wears it proudly in full support of her parents ministry...in her own way.  Meanwhile when the occasion calls for it she is able to have open conversations about faith to show the power of God's grace and word. The perception would be that she is preaching to crowds, but that is not nearly the case. She embraces people for who they are regardless of their backgrounds and simply shares the spirit of God without judgment. Now that she has lived her life under the microscope she is ready to show the world who she really is and offers some final words of advice for parents and children in ministry. 

Photo courtesy of Juana Larena's English Blog

 

"The best advice I could give a preacher's kid is to not give your parents a hard time. They are doing the best they can possibly do, while juggling a family and congregation. I did not come to this realization until I was older and saw how the stress of keeping both happy affected my parents. The best advice I could give Preacher parents is to not expect your children to be perfect. The more pressure you place on them, the more they are going to push back. Let them be children. Just as you weren't perfect, they are not going to be perfect either."

 

By Carmen Fletcher   

 

 



 

 

MOTHER OF GOD: MOTHER OF YOU

Image used from theidproject.org; Mother's Day:
What makes an essential mother; Artist Kolonoj.

We are beings carved into perfection in the womb of a woman who bends, breaks, stresses, loves, fights, protects and leads us into a world unfit in her eyes to receive such a gift.  We are the beings blessed with love that awakens our spirits and makes the woman complete; a mother. Her urge to keep us close to her protective womb never ends as we grow further from her reach. Just as Mary had to let her son go on to be a leader and eventually a savior, our mothers must also let us go and be the gift to the world we were meant to be. Who are we to dishonor the wishes of a woman that transformed her very being so that she can give us life? How do we honor the spirit from which we came? 

When Mary was told by the angel that she was to receive the son of God and his name would be Jesus, she was frightened and ridiculed for her claim. She did not allow the jeers to determine the love in the womb, because she knew that God had given her a gift and welcomed it in her spirit. What if she said no? What if God chose her to be the vessel in which He would take human form and she said absolutely not out of selfish fear? What would the world be without her contribution? 

 A woman opens her heart and body to receive a soul and form a being that we know as human. Before we take our first breaths she understood the goodness and troubles that were in our spirits. In our delivery in to this place we call our earthly home, she experienced agonizing pain as a precursor to the anguishes that the world will bestow upon us. When the screams and obscenities subsided she welcomed us with a smile and said 'Hi baby' 'Hey suga' 'I love you'. Then wrapped us in the outer womb of her love and presented us to the world as her gift. The outer womb of her love grants us serenity in our strengthening heartaches that other humans or the wicked world chooses to insert in our lives. No matter how far we stray, the discipline of her womb controls how we form and transform before we reach an adult age and are birthed into the world as a complete being. 

 

Some women who are blessed to receive a gifted soul are bitter from the evils of the world and unwilling to change their spirits for the sake of their child. The pain that passes through the birth canal is their own and forms a womb of wickedness in which the child grows up to be destructive and derailed. The discipline and serenity sought from the eyes of the wandering soul we know as a child is gone without. Then they too become of the wicked world not a spirit in the form of a human being...and the cycle continues. These women cry out in oblivious wonder and rage about why their child has become of the world. Seldom is it considered that the demons the child wears outwardly are the demons that dwell in the mother; or were welcomed to be implanted in her irresponsibly. Fortunately women who are unable to experience the transition of a spirit to a human are still able to connect to the spirits seeking a womb. 

 We know these women as surrogate mothers that come in the form of aunts, grandmothers, godmothers, preachers, teachers, mentors, and more. They purposefully seek the only lasting connection that could possibly create or reestablish a protective influential womb...love. Some disregard this kind of love, because the woman did not share the special connection from birth. However that is only one phase of carrying a child. All other aspects of motherhood are embraced and implemented the moment the woman decides to accept the spirit. Let us not forget that sometimes the meaning of  mother is spelled F.A.T.H.E.R. because the one who bore the child has left voluntarily. He too creates a womb that is to replace the absence of the mother's  with strength and effectiveness. He is blessed to understand the love it takes to create such a womb and grow the child to be a better mother or father.

In these wombs the child is taught how to endure the world by example and encouragement. Once the child is ready to leave the womb they are successfully born into a new reality called independence. All that is left is the umbilical cord of love that can be tugged at any given moment for guidance and comfort. In death the physical identification of love is lost, but with every decision, hardship, and joy their love is felt by and seen in the living example of the child. When we enter the world it seems that we want to disregard parts of our upbringing that do not fit into our independence. How dare we charge our success and survival only to our spirits when so many sacrificed so that our being could stand on two feet!

When we look in the mirror what do we see? Do we only see the features borrowed from our parents that formed us? Do we see the scars left from our birth in to independence? There has to be some recognition that we are who we are because of those that wrapped us in the womb of love. We cannot charge all of our success to the world that did not embrace us initially. Our mother's, in whatever form, had to make us who we are so that the world would respect our presence. The greatest honor that we as children can give them is to be who they were unable to be or rise higher than their expectations. We owe them our lives because they sacrificed their time, their knowledge, the strength, and more wrapped up in a welcomed burden called love.   When you awaken after washing the previous worries from your heart,  dedicate the day to honoring the spirit(s) that had to bring you through and into the world.
 

I say with all the gratitude and honor in my heart that my days and continued growth are dedicated to these women who created several wombs for me to be nourished and released into the world: Susan (Mother), Jasmine (Sister), Helen (Paternal Grandmother), Carrie (Maternal Grandmother), Evelyn (Great Aunt), Eva (Great Aunt), Sheila (step-mother), Joyce (surrogate mother), Christy (surrogate mother/friend), Shawn (surrogate mother), Kimberly (surrogate mother/friend), Marcia (friend).

 

Whenever your mother is disciplining you, hear the joyful encouragement behind her tone. When the laughs are too loud and the jokes are too corny smile and know that they hold a special place in your heart. When you're discouraged remember that they worked too hard and gave so much of them in you to give up. When you're sad replay every memory to strengthen and bring you joy. When they're gone and you miss them, look to the stars and remember that they promised to hold you a place in Glory.  

We owe our success, our strength, our happiness, and our growth to our mothers no matter the form they are in. Stand with pride for the transcending and transformation of spirits of the generations before and to come.

  

 It is because the mother of God opened her spirit that we now know the love of a mother.

How will you give thanks this Mother's Day? 

Please shout out the name of the mother(s) you cherish below.

By Carmen Fletcher