LIFE AS A PK

As a child, you never really know the significance of the occupation your parents hold, and how it will shape or influence you. In a society that expects PK’s (pastor’s kids) to be perfect, it builds pressure on the children.


I was born many years ago (well not so many). See, you never get to tell God to place you in a certain family because you think you would fit better there, but He places you where He wants you to be. I can’t quite ever remember referring to my father as ‘pastor’ at any one single time in my childhood, or in my life thus far. Once, it baffled me how a member of the church laughed when she heard me talking to my father on phone and calling him ‘dad’. She was like, ‘you should call him pastor.’ I was dumbfounded because to me, my father has always been and will always be ‘dad’.

Well, I went to school and that’s when my friends would say what their fathers did and I would too. So many times I tried being myself, but couldn’t because I knew I was not good enough. Unfortunately or fortunately, I would be chosen to do certain things like read the Bible or pray in class, because my father was a pastor. Other times I would be left out of doing a certain activity because of the same reason. I wished I could live a normal life and just be myself all the time.

I soon realized that it was hard being a pastor’s daughter, and having to live up to all the expectations. There were people who were watching you and waiting for you to fall and when you did, they would celebrate. There was this notion that all pastors’ kids were badly behaved because their fathers took more time rebuking evil in the church than in their homes. Once you fell, this just proved that that notion held by the society, was right.

However, at no single point did I feel resentful or neglected because my father was out there caring about everybody else. When he came home, he was my best friend and I would sit on his lap and tell him stories of how my day at school had been. He helped me a lot in dealing with bullies through my school years. Every time I had a problem at school, he would be there for me.

Luckily for me, I never had to put on a show of being a perfect child. My parents were brilliant about that. They just let me be a child. Somehow, they guided me so that I didn’t have anything to be extremely rebellious about. I just felt better doing what was right, so that’s what I did.

At college, I began to feel like my faith wasn’t really mine –  just my parents, and that’s where I had to decide who I was going to be – and what I really believed. That was when I had to decide how I wanted to exercise my faith out there in the real world.

It’s a blessing to have a father who has been called to serve hurting people. Over the years, that has given me a deep respect for my parents that I didn’t have when I was a teenager. I am really inspired by how hard they work.

Growing up in a christian family, I have been able to channel my efforts and life towards God. I am in no way perfect, and my relationship with Him remains a work in progress.

Let's be friends. Let's hang out every week, catch up, and just have a good time. PS: Tell a friend to tell a friend where we meet 🙂

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