I could never marry a missionary.
That thought quietly settled in my heart in 2018, while I was a Grade 12 student at Kerowagi Secondary School in Simbu Province. I remember sitting with my Adventist friends—especially the girls—as we talked about relationships, courtship and marriage.
One topic kept coming up: marrying a pastor or missionary. “If you marry a missionary,” one of them said, “just be ready to become a full-time housewife. You’ll be looking after children and following your husband everywhere.”
Everyone seemed to agree. And I believed it too.
At that moment, I silently told myself, that life is not for me. But God was already writing a different story.
After completing my Grade 12 exams, I returned home and became actively involved in my local church, Kundiawa Town Church. Life felt simple, predictable—until one unexpected moment changed everything. A church minister expressed his interest in starting a relationship with me.
I was not ready.
Not for marriage. Not for that kind of commitment. And certainly not for the life I thought came with being a pastor’s wife.
I felt torn—caught between what I believed, what I feared and what was now right in front of me.
So I did what many daughters do when life feels uncertain—I went to my mother.
Her response surprised me.
“It’s a blessing,” she said with joy. “Pastors and missionaries will take good care of you because they are men of God.” Her words were full of faith. Mine were full of hesitation. This was not part of my plan. But somewhere between fear and faith, I made a decision.
I said yes.
Looking back now, I see the quiet truth of Proverbs 16:9 (NIV): “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”
In 2020, while in my second year at the University of Papua New Guinea studying Linguistics, Journalism and Public Relations, we got engaged. Two years later, in 2022, we were married. Today, we have two children, and we continue to walk this journey of ministry together.
But marriage was only the beginning of the lesson God wanted to teach me.
After graduating from university, I stepped into a different kind of challenge.
Waiting.
For nearly three years, I applied to different organisations. Application after application. Hope after hope.
Nothing.
No offers. No doors opening. It was a quiet, stretching season—one that tested my faith and forced me to ask difficult questions.
Did I make the right choices? Was I meant for more than this? Yet even in the silence, God was not absent.
I held on to His promise in Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you . . . plans to give you hope and a future.” Then, in the middle of that waiting season, God sent someone into my journey—Keetleen Ratnasingam, a leadership developer who saw something in me I had almost forgotten.
She encouraged me to start writing for Adventist Record.
At first, it seemed like a small step. But it came with a powerful reminder: Don’t wait for opportunity—use what God has already given you.
Her words echoed the truth of James 2:17: “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”
I realised something important—miracles don’t happen in stillness alone. They often begin with obedience.
Just like Jesus’ first miracle.
In John 2:7 (NIV), Jesus told the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” And they did. Before the miracle happened, there was action. Before the breakthrough, there was obedience.
So I took action. I began to write. I submitted my stories to Record. One by one, they were accepted and published. With each article, my confidence grew. With each opportunity, my purpose became clearer. And then—something changed.
A door opened. I was offered a role with the Central Papua Conference (CPC) as associate communication director and administrative assistant. Suddenly, everything made sense.
The waiting.
The writing.
The journey.
God had not been delaying me—He had been preparing me.
Today, I look back at that young girl sitting with her friends, believing that being a pastor’s wife meant giving up her dreams.
She didn’t know what I know now.
Being a pastor’s wife is not a limitation.
It is a calling. It is a partnership. It is an opportunity to serve God—not just behind the scenes, but fully, boldly and purposefully.
I am not only a pastor’s wife.
I am a writer.
A communicator.
A mother.
A servant of God.
And I now understand the truth of Proverbs 16:3: “Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.”
What I once saw as a sacrifice became my purpose.
What I once feared became my testimony.
And what I once misunderstood has become, truly, a blessing in disguise.
Rose Maine Sinias is the assistant communication director for the Central Papua Conference.
