On a day I could never forget – Aug 22, 2014 – I confessed a sin to my youth pastor. It was a sin that had ravaged the insides of my heart and mind; it made my thought processes wicked; and it killed my obedience to Him.

I could no longer bear the heaviness of the pain and guilt. It was a sin of carnal desire that had no boundaries when it came to patience.

I was a cell group leader in the youth church at that point in time, almost eight months into the role. I was about to step down to focus more of my efforts, time and energy in a project to rejuvenate the Pre-Primary children’s church.

It was something I strongly believed I was called to – a link between what I was learning in Polytechnic and my ministry work in church. It was my connection between secular and sacred.

But in my session of confession, I had all that stripped away from me. Everything that I hoped for, was excited for, and strongly believed in was no longer mine to call. My youth pastor said I needed time to recover and grow from that incident.

He was definitely right, no argument there. But in that moment all I had in my mind were my fears – and a raging anger.

I was only gone for three months. I found it too hard to run from God.

I feared how people would look at me when they knew or found out about what I had done.

But I was angry with myself, for the most part. I was upset with myself for causing so much pain to others and myself. For destroying what seemed to be God’s perfect plan.

To cut a long story short, things turned even more sour and I eventually left the church I called home for another one. And there things didn’t get better – I found myself feeling lost, away from many of the people I’d grown up with. I eventually left that new one too.

I became one of those Christians who say, “You don’t need to go to a church to be a Christian.”

But I was only gone for three months. I found it too hard to leave the idea and perception of God. He had permeated my life, morphed my convictions and beliefs. There was only so far I could run.

Ironically, I was to be baptised that same year, in the church where I’d grown up, only to fall.

My leader, who had been badly affected by the whole situation, told me to stop running away. He added that he wouldn’t give up on me, even though I had wronged him. I know he went way beyond the extra mile for me, way past the investment a leader is expected to make.

In him I came to see a living example of the redeeming, forgiving love of Christ.

So, on January 3, 2015 – just under six months since the drama began – I stepped through the doors of the Chapel in my church, where the familiar youth service was about to start. I felt a little on edge, but it was good to be home.

As I settled in, as the awkwardness was replaced by fellowship, as hurts were forgiven, as my fears were put to bed, I felt a familiar urge – that “calling” of mine, ringing strongly in my conscience. I was determined to serve in the children’s ministry as I’d been dreaming of.

I tried to rush the process. I pestered the children’s pastor with weekly WhatsApp messages, asking when we could meet up to talk about me serving again. All my messages were blue-ticked, week after week. I definitely was frustrated with the process: Why is this taking so long?

When we acknowledge God’s presence in our waiting, there comes a joy. And that joy will be what keeps us going. That joy will be our strength.

There was a lesson of waiting in session, and God was the teacher.

Finally, on December 30 that year, I was finally given the green light. And on January 10, 2016, I re-entered the children’s ministry. It was about 15 months of waiting in total.

And boy, did that waiting teach me lessons.

It taught me patience – that there’s an appropriate time for everything. I learnt humility; starting from ground zero was a humbling experience. I learnt bravery, talking to people who had been affected by my past mistakes.

In God’s terms, waiting could mean a time of reflection, and preparation.

The people of Israel were required to consecrate themselves (Joshua 3:5) before crossing the Jordan entering into the promised land, Canaan.

Jonah was caught in the stomach of a gigantic aquatic beast for 3 whole days (Jonah 1:17). Jonah 2 speaks of Jonah’s reflection and prayer of gratefulness to God within the belly of the beast.

It was a necessary 15 months for me – a necessary wait. Yes, amid all that I felt pain, I suffered. But when we acknowledge God’s presence in our waiting, there comes a joy. And that joy will be what keeps us going. That joy will be our strength.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. (Psalm 27:14)