You never know how the life decisions we make will impact the generations to come. My sister-in-law was driving her four children out to our house a few years ago. It was dark and three out of the four were asleep. Her then six year old daughter had decided to stay up and help navigate.
As they approached the long driveway that leads up to the manse and the church parking lot blonde niece started to announce landmarks:
There’s Aunt Smama's driveway...
There’s Aunt Smama's house…
There’s Aunt Smama's graveyard…
My chosen vocation at times seems to deeply influence my nieces and nephews. I wonder how many non-pastors are dragged into the playroom so that we can all play church.
The same precocious niece is the director. Always. And instructs me to preach: “Okay, Aunt Smama you talk now.”
Trying to be witty I ask: “What should I say?”
“Oh you know, what you always say: blah, blah, blah.”
And then we get to the offering and she gets a plate from the play kitchen and runs up and down the imaginary aisle, diving at the dolls and toys that sit in the imaginary pews asking them, “Are you outta money? Are you outta money?”
Here is the bottom line for me - and it is a bottom line that I lean on quite a bit out here in rural land.
My niece is one of many that I will interact with throughout my life who now can never say, "A female pastor? I never heard of such a thing."