"Young lady, I see you getting married to a great man of God. Pray about it," a pastor told me one day.

I didn't pray about anything. I was angry. I always said I would never marry a pastor. I found it annoying that I would be held up to my husband's profession and be expected to live like he would live. It was too much pressure.

Then I met Kobby. What made me stay was the fact that he wasn't a churchgoer when we met. He believed in a lot of things, but I decided to invite him to church, and he came. After a while, he started attending on his own. At first, it was irregular, then it became regular. I was impressed.

When we started dating, nothing showed that he would change drastically. He was a fun-loving and go-merry bubbly guy who took nothing seriously. We got married in a simple family setting. I was happy that the pastor's prophecy never came to pass.

Then, things changed.

Kobby would leave work and go to church. He said he had enrolled in theology school because he wanted to understand the Bible better. I didn't complain because I thought it was a great idea. But then he started getting close to the pastors. He would attend meetings, and later, he became a deacon.

It wasn't bad, but by the time we were five years into the marriage, I received the news that he was going to become a pastor. I was shocked and devastated. I asked him why, and he said God was calling him.

"I don't want to be a pastor's wife," I cried.

And he said, "It doesn't change anything. I'm still the same husband you've always known. This will not change anything."

But things changed.

There were some places we went that we didn't go to anymore. He would stay longer at church, and the calls wouldn't stop. People would call him to attend the functions. People started calling him 'Papa,' and they would call me 'Mama.'

I hated it, but I would fake a smile.

I wasn't very sociable, but my husband's new position at church brought people to us every day. We had so many 'children' from church that it annoyed me. When I wore something sexy, people would be like, "Pastor's wife, don't do this and that." They judged my double piercing. They judged everything.

But my husband didn't love me any less, and that was what mattered.

Being a pastor made him an even better person. Maybe I was meant to be loved by a pastor. It's different when the man who loves you genuinely loves God and loves you the way God wants him to love you.

Maybe I was afraid to marry a pastor because of the burden of becoming a pastor's wife, the mother of the church, but with Kobby, I don't feel any pressure. He doesn't allow judgments to come to me. He defends me as if his life depended on it. He's the father of the church, a father who puts his wife first.

He said nothing was going to change, but things did—they changed for the better!

To be loved by a pastor—I don't regret it at all.