When Dreams Diverge
I went through the motions of full-time ministry and motherhood, but inside, I felt hollow. I’d lost the vision of who I was, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back.
The summer of 2011 was supposed to be about beginnings. My then-fiancé Moses and I were two months from our wedding, standing on the brink of a life we’d dreamed of together. But instead of joyful anticipation, I felt a growing ache I couldn’t ignore. In the evenings, we’d sit in a park and talk about the future: our marriage, my career, and the questions that didn’t seem to have answers.
I wanted to be excited. I wanted to feel secure in the choices we were making. But all I felt was the sharp pull of contradiction between my dreams and the reality I was stepping into.
Cultural Expectations and Career Dreams
Both of my parents were born in the Philippines and were the first in their families to come to America. My sisters and I were urged to pursue careers and seize every opportunity available to us. Visiting the Philippines and seeing the limited career options for women only strengthened my resolve.
“Women can do anything a man can do!” was my mantra. I preferred Legos over princess dresses, books over Barbies. While I wasn’t opposed to marriage, I wasn’t one to dream about wedding dresses or venues.
Drawn to math and science, I attended a specialized engineering high school in New Jersey and landed a civil engineering internship in Manhattan. But I soon realized I craved a more people-oriented job. Since I loved writing, storytelling, and connecting with others, I shifted my focus to journalism.
The Call to Ministry
Meanwhile, Moses was mentoring students through Cru’s high school ministry. Cru encouraged married couples to join staff together, as ministry wasn’t a typical 9-to-5—it meant late nights, flexible schedules, and living on donor-based financial support.
Moses felt an undeniable call to join full-time staff. Me? I wasn’t so sure.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care about ministry—I did. After all, Moses and I had met volunteering at one of Cru’s after-school Bible clubs. But in my compartmentalized mind, ministry was something you did outside of your “real” career.
Wrestling with My Identity
When I started dating Moses, one of the things that attracted me to him was his lack of intimidation by my strong personality and career aspirations. I remember one conversation when I asked how he’d feel if I ever made more money than him. He said he didn’t mind at all. Score.
So the summer of our engagement, as I wrestled with whether I should join Cru, my pride took a big jab. I applied for the job at Cru, but grudgingly. I knew that joining Moses on staff would be the end of my writing career as I knew it.
I tried to convince myself it would work out. Maybe there was a way to stay true to my dream and still support his. But deep down, I knew the truth: I couldn’t. Something had to give, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to let it be my dream.
Following God’s Whisper
Imagine my shock when after months of a bittersweet engagement, I sensed the Lord whisper a phrase on my heart: "Follow your husband."
It was an alien concept to me that a woman would willingly give up her career aspirations for a man. After all, my mom had enabled our family to come to America by landing a high-demand nursing job. Only after she had settled in did my dad follow with my two older sisters.
Frankly, I was mad at God. Why would He let me have hope for a writing career, give me internships and opportunities, just to pull the rug from under me?
Maybe I’d misheard His voice.
Maybe I wasn’t called to journalism after all.
Maybe I wasn’t called to anything.
Stepping Into Ministry
Eventually, I made the choice to step into ministry with Moses. I had peace in the sense that I trusted God. But even as I said yes, I felt like I was saying goodbye to a part of myself I didn’t know how to live without.
My favorite Bible verse up until that point was 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.’” But at the crossroads of making the decision to join Cru, I doubted whether God was out to harm me.
I realized that like God testing Abraham with Isaac, He was asking me to put my career on the altar. Like the Israelites and Baal, I had forged my own idol to replace God. Pursuing a name for myself in journalism—even with the noble intent of ministry—had become a form of self-promotion rather than worship. As Oswald Chambers put it: “Our Lord calls to no special work: He calls to Himself” (My Utmost for His Highest). I had made my ministry more important than my relationship with God, and it took a toll on my spirit.
Grief, Motherhood, and Loss
The first year of our marriage was marked by an undercurrent of grief, at least for me. Within two months of our wedding, I was pregnant with our oldest. Then, we had four more kids back-to-back. “Becoming a mom” was added to the list of jarring transitions.
I went through the motions of full-time ministry and motherhood—smiling, praying with students, hosting Bible studies—but inside, I felt hollow. I’d lost the vision of who I was, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back.
People would tell me—and let’s be real, I tried to convince myself—that God had a plan, that He would redeem this season. But those words felt like cheap platitudes. What I wanted was my old life, my old self, my old dream.
Living in the Tension of Faith
It’s tempting to tie this up neatly, to say that I saw God’s hand and everything fell into place. But the truth is, the pain of that loss lingered for more than a decade, at times spiraling into depression. I wrestled with doubt, resentment, and a quiet fear that maybe I’d misunderstood everything about God and myself.
What I can say is this: I’m still grieving parts of the career I imagined that will never come to fruition. Some days, the ache feels as sharp as ever. Other days, I catch glimpses of something new, something different but still beautiful.
And maybe that’s where faith lives—in the tension between what was and what could be.
Want more of Marilette’s story? Check out her guest episode on the MercyCast podcast.
