Amy Isham coordinates music, writes kids’ talks and co-leads their Estuary discussion group. Her husband, Luke, is the pastor of St Kilda Presbyterian Balaclava Church in Melbourne.

Can you tell us about your current roles at church?

At the moment I coordinate music and deliver kids’ talks. I’m also a leader in our Estuary ministry, a faith and philosophy discussion group.

Because we don’t currently have elders, I also tend to be the person my husband Luke processes ideas with as we think through vision and mission together.

I have a doctorate in leadership, am an Associate with the Centre for Public Christianity (CPX), serve on the board of Publica and write for The Gospel Coalition Australia. During the week I work as a library manager.

It sounds like a lot, but this year has actually been one of consolidation. I’ve said no to committees and speaking opportunities that don’t fit with our season as a family.

I want to use my gifts and energy wisely, not spread myself too thin.

How did you come to faith?

I didn’t grow up in a Christian home. At 16, my brother died very suddenly of meningococcal meningitis. That loss rocked me and led me to ask the big questions: Is God real? Why did this happen?

For a couple of years I explored everything — new age practices, meditation, philosophy. But it left me emptier than before.

One night I prayed, “God, reveal yourself to me — even if it’s Christianity.” And I heard a voice say: Read the Bible.

Around that time, I had Christian friends through dance and drama classes. I joined a Bible study and slowly I realised the hope I had in Christ was unlike anything else.

What is Estuary and how has it shaped your church?

Estuary began in post-lockdown Melbourne. Luke (my husband and pastor) had been joining Jordan Peterson discussion groups and realised there was a hunger for conversations around philosophy, faith and personal meaning.

He started a local discussion group using the Estuary Protocol, a structured way of engaging across big ideas without heckling or hostility.

We began running gatherings at church, often with 20 people turning up. We’ve had people come out of cults, difficult marriages, or just isolation.

Some of them are now members of our church. Others aren’t Christians yet but keep coming because they feel loved and welcomed (and they often bring cake!).

What challenges is your church facing right now?

Our biggest challenge is a lack of leaders. We’re a small church of about 25–35 people.

In the last five years we’ve baptised new believers and welcomed new members, but we don’t have elders at the moment, and many of the people God is bringing are from eclectic backgrounds without deep formation in Scripture.

That means a lot of the responsibility falls on Luke and me. It can feel exhausting — changing church culture, consolidating music, even selling a building that was too expensive to insure.

But we keep coming back to our motto: sharing the meaning and grace we find in Jesus.

There is fruit, even when it doesn’t look like numerical growth.

You’ve mentioned having “unusual gifts” for a complementarian church. Can you unpack that?

I’ve always believed complementarian theology is biblical and life-giving — men and women are equal in value but serve in different roles in the church. But because I’ve been given strong public speaking and leadership gifts, I often stand out.

People see a woman speaking up the front and assume I want to be ordained and lead a church, or they accuse me of supporting something oppressive.

Living in inner-city Melbourne, I’ve had people be very angry: How could you dare to have that opinion? You must want to oppress people.

And I think, Have you seen me? I’m not really very oppressed.

My experience has been the opposite — I feel freed to use my gifts within God’s good design.

You’ve been writing and researching on “horizontal transcendence.” What does that mean?

I’m fascinated by what’s happening in people when they have profound experiences without faith in Christ.

Maybe it’s music, nature, or liturgy — they feel something bigger than themselves. Is that just the profound, or is it genuinely transcendent?

Theologically, I think it’s an expression of common grace. People can taste something beautiful, even haunting, without truly encountering the living God.

A genuine experience of God, though, will always lead to worship of Christ.

That’s why I’m researching “horizontal transcendence” — how people experience awe and longing within this world.

I’m contributing a chapter to a scholarly book on Taylor Swift and religion, exploring how her music gives fans a sense of belonging, being seen, and even say they’re “going to church” at her concerts.

You were hesitant about going on a weekend away with the Wives Network. What was it actually like?

Honestly, I was reluctant to go. I thought I’d be the odd one out, since I’m doing ministry in the public space and working. But it was brilliant.

Being at the Wives Network retreat was like being surrounded by warrior-class women. Pastors’ wives are the most tuned-in, thoughtful, incredible women you’ll ever meet.

Even if they work or don’t work, if they’re educated at uni or didn’t finish high school, if they have kids or don’t have kids—there’s just a unique quality about a pastor’s wife.

Being surrounded by them for a whole three days was incredible.

The training and coaching really hit where we’re at. We’re exhausted, we’re scared, we’re worried we’re not doing enough, or that we’re doing too much.

All the training helped us work through those emotional burdens—whether you’re a young pastor’s wife trying to figure it out, or an older pastor’s wife carrying hurt and unresolved things.

It’s always hard to get away, though. Our kids’ schools are far, we don’t have family support nearby, and I feel guilty leaving Luke with everything. But it was worth it. The women I bonded with there are people I’d love to see again.

What advice would you give to women considering ministry?

Don’t compare your gifts to others. Some women thrive at event logistics; others love teaching. God uses us differently, and that’s good.

Learn your strengths and weaknesses, build teams where you fit, and keep your mental, emotional, and spiritual health strong.

Above all, remember that ministry is God’s work, not yours. If you don’t plan rest, in his mercy he may force it on you. Humble yourself, pace yourself, and trust him.