Honor your mother and father

What life is like as a pastor’s kid


Photo by Holland Rainwater

Sophomore Caden Rainwater stands beside his father who is the pastor of Cross Pointe Church. Rainwater was raised to be a representative of Jesus Christ and of his father.

Story by Caden Rainwater, staff writer

Being a pastor’s kid is a large part of who I am as a person because it is so tightly intermixed with my life.

Ever since I was born, I was never held to the same standards of everyone else. Being a pastor’s son has caused a lot of happiness and relief, while at the same time I have wished that I didn’t have to live up to my last name.

I often have to remind myself who I am, and what I represent. In our community I am known as “the pastor’s son”, and I have read enough of the bible to know that I must honor my father and my mother.

All my life, if I did not act properly in a public area like a restaurant or a grocery store, I would be criticized for how I was acting in contrast with how a respected person in society would act.

Without a doubt being a pastor’s kid has had its perks. I have had the privilege of observing official decisions been made on how to lead a large group of people. I have met and spoken to important figures in my community because I have the privilege to represent my last name. I also can not overlook all of the church camps I have gone to over the years with my church family.

However, all good things must come to an end, or so I thought. After spending most of my life in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, my father brought us to Texarkana for a new church, which meant a new start.

Looking back at the time, after living here for well over a year, I have enjoyed the life-changing decision my family made. I often think about the verse Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

I’ve not only been taught to honor my family’s name, but I am also held responsible to be a good representative of Christ. My father has reminded me numerous times that no matter how different my story is from others, God views me the same as every single person he has ever created.

That’s the kind of person my pastor is, a representative of Christ. That’s the kind of person my father is, a representative of Christ. It just so happens that in my case, one man represents both, and that is the reason I carry myself the way I do.