One of the books that convinced me to go into ministry is entitled This Odd and Wondrous Calling by and Martin Copenhaver. In the book, two preachers go back-and-forth talking about what it's like to go through the day-to-day work of ministry. My favorite chapter is entitled "Made Better Than I Am."
In the chapter, Copenhaver reflects on how ministry has forced him to be a better version of himself. He confesses that he does not always want to do the right thing or say the right thing. Sometimes, he wishes he could be petty or make a quip at somebody else's expense. However, ministry has frequently been described as living in a fishbowl with everyone keeping an eye on you. Copenhaver's roll as pastor has forced him to newer heights of spiritual maturity because parishioners are always watching.

Held to a higher standard, he would occasionally grow weary of what others expected of him, but he never grew to resent his situation. Instead, his "job" forced him to cultivate holy habits because he could not run away when it come time to pray in a hospital room or spend time with a difficult church member.
I find it interesting because he confesses that being in ministry makes you have to strive to be somebody else, somebody better than who you actually are, and that by pretending to be better than you actually become better. By striving to meet the expectations of others a minister is compelled to act in a manner worthy of their calling.
I didn't think anything could have the same affect as ministry on building someone's spiritual maturity. That's until I got married.
On its best days, marriage serves as the everyday practice ground for cultivation Christian virtue. In the honeymoon phase you develop this ideal picture of your spouse's character. That picture is way more flattering and impressive than the actual person; but, if the couple is loving committed to each other then there is this drive to live up to the ideal image created for you.

I've been married less than two months, and already I feel like I have to be better than I am. I can't slink off into the next room and sulk when I feel offended or frustrated. It's not fair to use the silent treatment as punishment, and it's not right to always play the victim card.
Not that we're having many arguments as newlyweds. 99% of the time we're still grossly in love and perfectly happy. However, being married means that I'm always being watched, and conversely, I'm always watching someone else. It's like having a live in accountability partner, but I suppose people who have been married more than ten minuets already know this.
Yet, on marriage's even better days, when you fail to live up to that wonderful person whom your spouse believes you to be, they are there to forgive you, and hold you, and maybe even let you be a little petty. They will encourage you to be better, but never lord it over you when you are not.
On it's even better days, marriage is where we have the a thousand opportunities to live like Jesus, to love like Jesus, and to forgive like Jesus. We are able to build each other up into the loving ideal we know that can be, but grace always covers us in the moments we can't measure up. Jesus loves all of us in just such a way. He knows we can be better and do better. But when we fail to live faithfully, he stands with open arms ready to forgive.

