Image credit; crowns of glory- grace, mercy and peace by Henry Lee Batyle

Image credit; crowns of glory- grace, mercy and peace by Henry Lee Batyle

These days I have been plagued by the suffix ‘wife’ the prefix to that word has changed again as my dear friend has taken it upon her self to call me ‘Pastor’s wife’. I assumed she had come up with this out of nowhere, however upon further deliberation, I find that she made this decision based on the strength of my convictions and my ability to deliver my opinions astutely. I initially assumed that those traits would make a good pastor however, seeing as I don’t have that vision, that argument was swiftly put to bed.

I have advised my dear friend that I am in fact no Pastor’s wife and yet, she has taken it upon herself to declare that this is not a joke but a prophecy. I have decided to argue no further. However, as I considered this declaration which she made from a place of love, I remembered a declaration made just over a decade ago by someone who was a stranger at that point. It was my first day at a new all girls school after moving form a mixed boarding school. The girls seemed nice and friendly, all colourful and bright, full of words of caution and advice. Some people wanted to know what schooling ‘there’ was like. Did I know so and so? I often knew who they were talking about, however due to my lack of social prowess, I was unable to offer them any insight into the lifestyle of those they enquired about. That was until I was asked about ‘Cole’.

You see I do not remember what I said when this girl asked me about him. I do not remember what my face said either. However, it was enough for her to coin me ‘Cole’s wifey’, she went as far as to record my details that way in her phone and for the remaining three years in that school, I was plagued by that nickname. I am certain I may have answered when called that name least once or twice.

Did I have a crush on Cole? No I did not.
Did I like Cole? No I did not.
Did I have any opinions about Cole? None of relevance.
Why did he come up in conversation? I have no idea.
He was neither in my year group or in my circle of friends. I always wandered, why did she ask me about him? Why did she attach my name to his? And why did she persist in such a fashion? ( if you ever read this, do let me know why? I still wander at times!)

Now my friend has tagged me ‘pastors wife’, she is not a stranger or an acquaintance. And as I ponder upon this new title. I pray that it is fleeting and soon replaced by something less daunting. I recently read this article; The Pastor’s Wife Effect and it confirmed my suspicions that life at the top can be very lonely, even when you got there by accident. I suppose she may have called me ‘pastor’ in which case I may have stopped answering her calls entirely. (PS: I kid not! Don’t even try it, you know yourself!)

You see, I don’t really like nicknames. I believe they communicate our flaws to strangers. They then make a decision before they ever encounter the named person. I think unknown nicknames are worse. The spiteful names people call you behind your back. And then there are the ones I’ve described above, easily recalled as fond memories. But then there are the ones people use as an exercise in bullying; the ones we should never repeat. What nicknames did you attract when you were younger? Do you think they were fair? What nicknames are you called now? If you could changed them, would you?

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