Over the years, I have come to deeply appreciate the quiet faith of the tradesman. The man who may not say much in a crowd but whose hands tell a story of skill, patience, and steady work.

It was a call from dear friends we met more than ten years ago at the very first church Ken and I ever helped build. Hearing their voices again brought back memories of dusty workdays, shared meals, laughter around folding tables, and prayers whispered together in the middle of long days of serving.

Many of us are standing at a place where we’re looking both backward and forward at the same time. Looking back, we wonder if what we gave was enough—enough faith, enough obedience, enough courage. Looking forward, we see a season that feels unfamiliar. We know God still calls, but we quietly ask, “What could He possibly have left for me now?” I’ve asked those questions myself.