“Does God keep you up at night?” Laurie Hafner was a college student studying for the LSATs when she saw this question on an ad for a seminary. Her “yes” answer was a life changer: “Even though I had no women role models and couldn’t really imagine what a woman pastor would look like, I scrapped plans for law school and went to seminary instead.”

Three decades later, Laurie is senior pastor at the Coral Gables Congregational United Church in Florida. She presides over weddings and funerals, blesses births and deathbeds. At major holidays, more than a thousand people gather to listen to her preach. “We work the entire life cycle of needs,” says the mom of Ciana, 14.

These days, you’ll find many moms in the ministry. Karen Maezen Miller became a Zen Buddhist priest after feeling unsatisfied by a PR career. She leads temple services in Los Angeles, sits silent at meditation retreats (up to two weeks) and has gradually simplified her life according to monastic traditions. Yet she also struggles amid carpools, PTA meetings and squabbles with daughter Georgia, 13, to find moments of Zen—just like the rest of us.

Katherine Willis Pershey, associate pastor of First Congregational Church in Western Springs, IL, chose the ministry because “it was a chance to do everything I was interested in: study literature, write, teach and help others. It is one of the few remaining professions where you are a true generalist.” And Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, senior cantor at New York City’s Central Synagogue and a mom of three, loves the symbiosis between work and life. By helping people find meaning in their lives, she finds divine purpose in her own.

The Stained-Glass Ceiling
The truth is, these women aren’t just spiritual leaders, they’re groundbreakers. The majority of americans have never heard a woman preach—let alone an experienced one who has a pink pedicure and a toddler waving from the front row. When you factor in the major denominations that don’t ordain women (including Roman Catholic and Evangelical Protestant), two thirds of churchgoers in this country don’t have access to women clergy, estimates Laura Olson, PhD, a professor of political science at Clemson University in South Carolina, who studies religion and politics.

But for the other third, the picture of who’s in the pulpit is shifting dramatically. Whether it’s as pastors or priests, rabbis or reverends, women are joining the clergy in record numbers. The Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates about 18 percent of U.S. clergy are women, a remarkable leap considering female pastors were virtually unheard of pre-1960. and in the not-too-distant future, predicts Dr. Olson, many Protestant seminaries will become majority female.

With this comes a struggle for equality. “We call it the ‘stained-glass ceiling,’ ” says Dr. Olson. “Women commonly get assigned to small or dying congregations, or locations that are not ideal.” In spiritual matters, U.S. culture is still “patriarchal,” adds Karen. “Spiritual leadership is almost always bestowed on men first.”

Laurie once went on television as the only woman in a panel of religious leaders. “As the moderator introduced us, he said something like ‘I’m pleased to introduce Father so and so, Bishop so and so, Reverend so and so,’” she recounts. “To me he said, ‘I just can’t call you reverend because you don’t look like one.’ The rest of the show, he called me ‘Laurie’ while he called the men by their titles.” But it’s getting better. Awhile back, she says, “the more we looked and acted like men, the better. Thank goodness those days are over and we can be who we are.”

The Calling
In fact, ministry is a calling that requires you to be, as Katherine puts it, your “best healthy self.” Not perfect all the time, but authentic, compassionate and able to manage competing demands on your time and insight.

Still, you never truly clock out. “We say we work responsibilities, not hours,” says Katherine, whose husband, Ben, stays home to take care of daughters Juliette, 4, and Genevieve, 1. “Which can mean a lot of hours at times.” The Sunday sermon alone takes hours of preparation—15 to 20 hours a week for Katherine.

Plus, as a member of the clergy, “you’re a catchall for people’s lives, a safety net,” notes Dr. Olson. Laurie visits hospitals and nursing homes several times a week. Angela has cut short vacations to preside over a funeral. Katherine runs a weekly evening Moms and Faith gathering, a Bible study and a writing workshop. For any of them, logging in to an empty email in-box would be, well, miraculous.

Clergy moms never fly under the radar—not when they want to duck into the post office, not when their child throws a public tantrum. When Angela’s son Gabriel, 12, reads from the Torah at his bar mitzvah next year, she’ll need to invite every member of the synagogue to the celebration. “He’ll have the pressure of the eyes of the community on him, but he’ll have all the love and support, too,” she says. “That’s not something every kid gets.”

Within the long hours and heavy commitments, there’s a saving grace: flexibility. The flip side of being on call all the time is being able to step away during downtimes. “Much of the time is within my control,” says Angela, who loves preparing a special family dinner—eggplant Parmesan or kimchee (she’s half Korean)—on her Tuesdays off. Many mornings, if there’s nothing pressing, she’ll treat one of her kids (Gabriel, or Eli, 10, or Rose, 7) to breakfast at a neighborhood diner. “I relish the stolen moments. but I also appreciate that my family can share in the work I do,” she says. They attend her Friday night services, and they’ve traveled as a family overseas on synagogue missions.

Katherine regularly pops home to eat lunch with ben and the girls. She trades her working Sundays for two half-days off during the week. She loves the give-and-take nature of the job. For instance, now that Ben is going to night school, she’s moved one of her evening church gatherings to her home, where a congregant is going to bring her daughter to babysit Katherine’s girls. “It’s a messier calendar than a standard 9-to-5 job,” she says, “but for me, it’s more rewarding.”

The Vow of Poverty?
Well, not necessarily (technically it’s Catholic priests who take that vow), but the riches you’ll get won’t be worldly. Salaries compare to a teacher’s—roughly $30,000 to $80,000. Government data pegs the average yearly wage at $48,490. in general, clergy serving large, prominent congregations earn more than those in smaller churches.

Katherine supports her family on her associate pastor’s salary, helped by a low-interest home mortgage provided by the church. It’s common for clergy to live rent-free in church-owned housing or get housing assistance. There’s also a tax exemption, called parsonage, to offset housing costs. health, disability and retirement benefits, including a pension, are standard for major denominations. As a cantor—one who leads the musical part of the worship—Angela gets salary, pension and benefits like trips to conferences and voice lessons.

The biggest perks, however, are intangibles like profound connections with others and the peace that comes when your deepest beliefs are aligned with your daily actions. Karen says her career switch has been nothing but liberating. reflecting the monk’s tradition, she shaved her head at ordination; now she hits Supercuts every three weeks to maintain a one-inch cropped ’do. “No more bad hair days, lots more time and energy because I’m not fussing with it,” she says, laughing. “I assure you I’m not a saint, but if as a priest I do as much for others as any other working mother, then I have attained my practice.”

Lessons from the front
Prepare for prep.
There’s about an hour of preparation behind every minute of a sermon—but the payoff is, shall we say, enlightening.

Be flexible.
As in many jobs these days, you have to prepare to do things you never imagined—including perhaps changing the lightbulbs in the parsonage.

You can’t be all things.
Spiritual counseling alone can’t fix everything. Make a list of social service providers—doctors, addiction experts, psychologists—in order to make referrals.

Take care of your feet!
Buy and wear comfortable shoes. You’re standing—a lot.