My six-year-old daughter often makes the pronouncement: “I am not going to seminary.” I think it was her first full sentence.
And I always respond, “Okay, honey.” I don’t have any expectation that she would be a pastor. In fact, I’m a little relieved when she says it, because although I love doing it, I know it can be difficult. It’s not the sort of job that a mother wishes upon her daughter.
Instead, I’m always trying to put a lid on forcing her to live out my unfulfilled expectations. I always wanted to be an artist. All right–for some clarification–I wanted to be a lot of things: artist, missionary, writer, theology professor. And it’s kind of cool watching how it comes together under the umbrella of pastor. But I still don’t do as much art as I wish I did. So when I find myself nurturing my daughter’s creative instincts, I wonder if I’m expecting her to live out my dreams.
I was at dinner recently with the HOS and some friends. He’s a seventh-generation pastor. This happens in families a lot. In my lineage, I’m the first ordained pastor that I know of, but I come from a strong circle of female spiritual teachers/pastors/mystics. Which made us wonder around the table, “Is there a spiritual gene? Is there something in our DNA that passes down from generation to generation? Or is it just the environment?”
What do you think?
photo’s by soleclaw23