I own many hats. Whether they suit me or not, I must change them according to the circumstances.

Once, I lived the life of a fashion designer; I learned—both in theory and in practice—which hats fit well and which did not suit at all.

But after becoming a pastor’s wife, the many hats I was compelled to wear without choice often felt unbearably burdensome.

At times, it was like seeing a lady in a silk dress wearing a helmet, only to exchange it moments later for a janitor’s cap, then a telephone operator’s headset, and suddenly finding herself in a chef’s hat.
At first, it was pain—humiliation—and a deep wound to my pride.
All my life I had thought of myself as stylish, believing only a certain type of hat was right for me.
Then, one day, the hat I loved most, the one I most enjoyed wearing, was suddenly taken away.

One day, Jesus—the Designer of my life—decided to transform me from the inside out.
With great scissors He trimmed and cut, reshaping my life and stitching it anew.
He placed many hats upon my head—hats given only to pastors’ wives in this world.
Yet I resisted with all my might, shouting in my heart, “I don’t need them!”
The Lord, who has an eye for beauty, wanted me to live beautifully, but He patiently waited until my human pride surrendered.
When I finally yielded, I began to see the beauty of life in a new way.

In immigrant churches, the role of a pastor’s wife is endlessly varied:
driver, babysitter, cleaner, counselor, hostess, editor, telephone operator, cook, Bible teacher, comforter.
God has granted the pastor’s wife countless opportunities to serve and to train.
There is no room for laziness—no crack for idleness to slip through.
Whenever there is time, she must pick up the phone to comfort someone in need, write letters, and wrestle for the sake of her own spiritual life.
There are moments of exhaustion, loneliness, and discouragement, when invisible results tempt her to throw everything aside and collapse in bed with a groan.

Yet how can I not be moved to gratitude when I experience that the God who chose someone as weak as me has also given me the strength to fulfill all these tasks through complete trust in Him?

In the past, I did not know how to confess my flawed humanity before God.
I tried to change hats only through my own effort and labor.
It was draining, exhausting, and the hats never seemed to fit quite right.
Often, after finishing the work, all that came back to me were voices of complaint and dissatisfaction.
But somewhere along the way, even when results were lacking or less than satisfying, I began to respond with gratitude—and life’s colors grew much brighter.

That day was the day the Lord Himself came to me and clothed me with His own garment.
Upon His head was the crown of thorns, stained with blood.
He embraced my tears, my weariness, my complaints, my loneliness, and my inadequacies.
With the hands marked by nails, He kept gently patting my back with a tender smile.
Softly, with a choked voice, I called His name:

“Jesus, the only Son of God! Save me! Have mercy on me!”

Since then, whatever hat is placed upon my head, I look to the crown of thorns He wore.
Blushing in shame, I thank Him that in the One who gives me strength, nothing is impossible.
And so today, as I press down yet another of the many “pastor’s wife hats” displayed in my life’s closet, I no longer grumble.
Instead, I send a loving wink to the God who has led me to live with such richness of experience and grace.

© WanHee Yoon, 2001