There is something both exciting and unsettling about new beginnings. They rarely arrive the way we expect. Sometimes they come after years of praying, sometimes they come wrapped in uncertainty, and other times they begin because a door we thought would stay open suddenly closes.

This Tuesday, my husband begins a new job. On the surface, it’s simply a career change—a better opportunity, a new chapter. But when I look back over our story, I don’t just see a new job. I see the fingerprints of God woven through a narrative that neither of us could have written ourselves.

When Chris and I first started dating, life looked very different than it does today. We were just high school sweethearts with big dreams about what our future might become. In the fall of 2006, we went together to Appalachian State University, excited about the next step of our journey.

Reality, however, has a way of arriving quickly. Money was tight. Really tight. It didn’t take long before Chris made a decision that would quietly shape the entire course of our marriage: while I focused on finishing my degree, he focused on making sure we survived.

His own college education was put on hold. He worked long hours, and at one point, he balanced three different jobs just to make ends meet. While many people chase their own dreams first, he chose to invest in ours. He encouraged me to finish my degree, even though it meant delaying his own.

Looking back now, I realize something I couldn’t fully appreciate at nineteen years old: Chris wasn’t simply working extra hours. He was laying down his own plans so ours could survive. While I crossed the stage to receive my diploma, he quietly postponed his own timeline. He never asked for recognition, and he never kept score. He simply loved me through sacrifice. At the time, I thought he was just helping us get by. Today, I see God was shaping his character far more than He was shaping his résumé.

Worry in the Passenger Seat

After we moved to Arkansas, Chris landed what many people would call his first “big boy” job. It felt like life was finally beginning to stabilize. But four years later, he was unexpectedly let go. For many people, losing a job would have felt devastating. For Chris, it became another reminder that life doesn’t always go according to our plans. On his way home after losing that position, he stopped at a local gas station, walked inside, asked if they were hiring, and walked out with a new job before he even made it back to the house.

That has always been one of the things I admire most about him. Not that he never worries—because if you know Chris, you know that’s simply not true. In fact, he’s probably the biggest “what if” person I’ve ever met. He thinks through every possibility, every outcome, and every worst-case scenario before making a choice. But I’ve also learned something vital over the last two decades: worry may ride in the passenger seat, but it never gets to drive.

Even when he doesn’t know how everything will work out, he still gets up, updates the résumé, submits the application, goes to the interview, and takes the next faithful step. I’ve come to realize that courage isn’t the absence of fear; courage is moving forward while trusting God with the outcome.

Eventually, Chris found his way into Arkansas state government, where he discovered something he genuinely enjoyed: Human Resources. Over the next nine years, he served across several different state agencies, growing both professionally and personally. Later, he accepted an HR position with Bad Boy Mowers closer to our home, but the experience ultimately reminded him how much he valued the structure, purpose, and mission of state service. So in 2022, he returned to state government, believing he had found the place where he would eventually retire.

Sometimes our plans make perfect sense. And sometimes God gently reminds us that His plans are bigger than ours. Earlier this year, restructuring within state government resulted in a reduction in force, and his position was eliminated—just four months before his fortieth birthday.

Weaving the Unseen Chapters

I think many people would have seen that as discouraging. Some might have questioned their future, and others might have wondered if they were too old to start over. Instead, Chris did what he has always done: he prayed, he worried, he trusted, and he started applying.

After several rounds of interviews, one opportunity began standing completely apart from the rest. A manufacturing company in Conway offered him a position with greater responsibility, higher pay, excellent benefits, and opportunities for professional certifications. In an incredible full-circle moment, the company even offers programs to help him finish the very college degree he set aside nearly twenty years ago so we could build our life together. He’ll be the Human Resources representative for the entire plant, working with a headquarters based in Canada, complete with opportunities to continue growing and even travel.

As I think about him walking into that building on Tuesday morning, I can’t help but smile. Not because every question has been answered, but because we’ve learned that God has been faithful through every single season before this one.

Over the last several months, we’ve prayed a lot in our home. My cancer diagnosis changed the way we look at tomorrow; things we once took for granted became daily prayers. We prayed for wisdom, peace, provision, and direction. Sometimes we prayed with confidence; other times we prayed simply because we didn’t know what else to say. Looking back, I can see that God wasn’t answering just one prayer—He was weaving together dozens of prayers we didn’t even realize we were praying.

The truth is, this new job didn’t begin when Chris accepted the offer. It began twenty years ago when a young man quietly chose sacrifice over comfort.

 Every long shift and missed class.

 Every unexpected layoff and difficult season.

 Every career change and lesson learned.

 Every disappointment and answered prayer.

None of it was wasted. God was using every single chapter to shape not only the professional Chris would become, but the husband, leader, and man of faith He was calling him to be. We pray for open doors without realizing He’s been preparing us for years to walk through them. Sometimes what feels like a detour is actually training.

“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16‬:‭9‬ ‭

We don’t always understand those steps while we’re taking them, but one day, we look back and realize God was guiding us the entire time.

Your New Beginning

Maybe you’re standing at the edge of your own new beginning. Maybe it’s a new job, retirement, college, a diagnosis you never expected, or a closed door that still hurts to think about. Whatever season you’re entering, remember this: God has never wasted a chapter of your life.

The experiences that seem random today may become the very things He uses tomorrow. He is just as faithful in the waiting as He is in the arrival. So if you’re walking through a new door this week, walk through it with confidence—not because you know what tomorrow holds, but because you know the One who does.

Chris,

Twenty years ago, neither of us could have imagined where God would lead us. We couldn’t have imagined moving to Arkansas, or the paths our careers would take. We couldn’t have foreseen our beautiful 25-acre home, our farm, our horses, raising our chickens, or stepping up together as guardians to a teenager. We didn’t know we’d be writing books, walking through cancer, or navigating the countless twists and turns that have shaped our lives.

Yet through every single chapter, you’ve remained the exact same man: faithful, hardworking, humble, and willing to do whatever it takes to provide for our family.

Thank you for believing in me long before I believed in myself. Thank you for putting your own dreams on hold so I could pursue mine. Thank you for every long shift, every difficult season, and every sacrifice I didn’t fully understand until years later.

My prayer is that this new chapter is more than just a better job; I pray it’s another reminder that God sees every unseen sacrifice, every quiet act of faithfulness, and every prayer whispered when no one else was listening. As you walk through those doors on Tuesday morning, know that I’ll be praying for you just as I have through every chapter before this one.

I’m incredibly proud of the man you are, and I’m even more excited to see the man God is still shaping you to become. Happy early fortieth birthday. I have a feeling your best chapters are still ahead.