I thought I’d be more afraid.
When I first realized I was about to lose my job, I braced myself for the panic, the long nights of overthinking.
But they didn’t come.
It was our main source of income.
Instead… I felt something else.
Something I wasn’t prepared for.
Joy. Excitement.
Not the loud, cheering kind.
Just a quiet kind of gladness that sits with you in the silence and says,
“You’re DEFINITELY going to be okay.”
And I knew it wasn’t coming from me.
There’s no Plan B.
No second offer waiting.
We don’t have a big emergency fund tucked away.
All I have is this confidence—gentle, firm, and somehow growing:
God will provide.
He always has.
He always will.
And I know that sounds brave. But it’s not me.
It’s grace.
Because left to myself, I would spiral. I would worry.
But God has been so near, so tender, so present…
and I can’t help but feel excited for what He’s about to do.
I keep going back to this verse in Habakkuk 3:18—
“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.”
That word—yet—has become my anchor.
Even if the paycheck stops.
Even if the future feels uncertain.
Even if I have no clue what the next chapter holds.
Yet I will rejoice.
Because my joy was never built on a job.
It was never built on stability, or savings, or even comfort.
It was built on Someone who never changes.
I’m writing this in real time.
Not from the other side of the miracle, but right in the middle of the waiting.
And if I’m being honest, I’m not always steady.
Some days, the fear tries to creep in.
But even on those days, there’s still this… calm.
This sense that God is up to something good—
and I don’t want to miss it by holding on too tightly to what He’s asking me to let go of.
So now, I wake up with a kind of hope I didn’t expect.
Not because of anything I can see.
But because of what I know:
God is writing something.
And I believe, with my whole heart, that this will be a testimony someday.
A story I’ll tell when I’m on the other side, saying,
“Look what the Lord has done.”
I don’t know what doors He’ll open.
But I know He’s already in the hallway with me.
And in the waiting, I have peace.
In the unknown, I have joy.
The kind I didn’t expect.
The kind I wouldn’t trade.
The kind that makes even this uncertain season feel full of purpose.
