Trial By Fire

How God Taught Me to Be Steadfast

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. — James 1:12

Testing is a central theme in the book of James.

To make his point, James turns to the image of a silversmith, who uses intense heat to burn away impurities from precious metal.

The metallurgy metaphor perfectly captures God’s love in testing us the same way—permitting difficult seasons not to destroy us, but to mold us into His image.

That’s why James can say to count it a joy when we face trials, because it means God is refining us (James 1:2–4).

James 1:12 is the verse that anchored me during a defining trial in my life.

At the time, I thought my career was being tested.

In hindsight, it was my spiritual life in the refiner’s fire.

And now, I can count it a great joy.

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Promoting to the rank of E-7 in the Navy carries additional requirements, including a six-week initiation to be accepted into the fraternity of the Chief Petty Officers’ Mess.

Think Bootcamp 2.0.

It’s a season of testing.

For reasons I can’t precisely recall, James 1:12 came into my life at the beginning of my initiation in August 2019.

I carried a copy of this exact verse image with me in my charge book — a living logbook of wisdom that is a cornerstone of the training process.

The word “steadfast” anchored me during each trial.

One of the most significant tests came four weeks into the process when I was reassigned to a ship that needed a chief for a deployment — right away.

My current ship wasn’t scheduled to deploy for over a year.

Now I would be gone at least six months.

The refining fire was getting hotter.

My wife handled the news like a pro, even though the stress of military life was getting heavy.

We’d moved to Jacksonville, Florida, that same year.

Our son was 18 months old.

Housing issues were ongoing.

I was in the middle of this “chief season.”

And now I had to deploy.

Then, almost as fast as my seabag was packed, the Navy gave me the first of several schedule changes.

Just as I was about to leave for deployment, I was told to report to Pensacola, Florida, first for a school. I’d fly out afterward to meet the ship.

I tried to remain flexible and understand the chaotic nature of military timing.

But I was actually on God’s time.

This was all part of the testing process.

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By the time I arrived in Pensacola, stress was taking its toll.

My faith had been strongest at our last duty station, where we’d gotten back into church.

Now I was drifting.

At the same time, an unthinkable tragedy happened. On December 6, 2019, three sailors were shot and killed during a terrorist attack at nearby Naval Air Station Pensacola. I wasn’t on base when the shooting happened, but it was shocking. And the tragedy would soon intersect with my story.

The same weekend as the shooting, I saw a Facebook ad for a local church—Marcus Pointe Baptist—hosting a special Christmas service with New York Yankees legend Andy Pettitte.

I went that Sunday morning, more interested in hearing about baseball than in hearing about God.

Again, I was drifting.

Something felt off when I got there, though — but in a good way.

I’ve never been one to casually say, “God spoke to me.”

But the moment I walked into that church, I knew I was supposed to be there.

I even messaged my wife: “I have this feeling we should try to get to Pensacola and put our son in this church’s school.”

The service was somber, mostly a memorial for the fallen sailors.

Andy Pettitte spoke.

I barely remember his words.

Mid-service, I got a text: uniformed service members were needed at the air station to render honors as the remains of the fallen sailors were transported to their homes.

I left, changed into my dress blues—the first time I ever wore them as a Chief Petty Officer—and headed over.

Hundreds of service members lined the street from the main gate to the flight line.

We stood in misty rain until the hearses passed under heavy escort.

It was an emotionally heavy moment.

Afterward, I went to my hotel to change and planned dinner with a friend.

Walking in, I saw Andy Pettitte and the pastor sitting in a truck outside the hotel.

I casually waved at them.

Surprisingly, Andy Pettitte rolled down his window and started talking to me.

I almost forgot I was in my dress blues.

That’s what got his attention.

We chatted.

I thought it was cool to meet a baseball legend.

The pastor was kind to me.

Then I realized what was really happening.

This was no coincidence.

God had just thrown me a curveball hotter than any Andy ever pitched.

My program and photo from the church service that changed my life in 2019.

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I'm stubborn.

It would have been easy for me dismiss my earlier conviction in the church.

But when I saw Andy Pettitte and the pastor a second time that day, I had this deep sense that God was reminding me of where he put me.

It was on purpose.

It was for a purpose.

Like the Lord sent word to Jonah a second time (Jonah 3:1), He was telling this old sailor to stop running.

Marcus Pointe Baptist Church was about to become homeport for a radical change.

But the testing wasn’t over—it was just beginning.

It would take four years to get back to that church.

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I finished school in Pensacola, went back to Jacksonville, and started logistics to meet my ship somewhere in the Middle East.

Things were working out.

I would be home for Christmas.

My beloved Tennessee Vols were even in town to play Indiana in the Gator Bowl.

Then my flight got moved up to December 24.

Yes, Christmas Eve.

Again, God's timing.

I asked my wife to open gifts early and drive me to the airport.

This poor woman.

I arrived in Bahrain on December 26 and was scheduled to take another military flight to the aircraft carrier at sea.

But both flights leaving Bahrain that morning were cancelled.

I spent the next few days stuck in Bahrain, eating too much Shawarma Express, and playing logistical chess with moving warships.

To make matters more complicated, tensions were extremely high in the Middle East after regional attacks on American bases.

On January 3, 2020, the U.S. responded with a strike in Baghdad that killed a top Iranian general.

I found out while trying to watch Tennessee in the Gator Bowl on spotty Bahrain cable television.

It was not meant for me to watch that game.

Timelines rapidly sped up.

I was on an airplane a few hours later, heading out to sea.

Trying to look cool on the plane ride out of Bahrain.

I spent a few days on the aircraft carrier, and finally got the helicopter ride to my ship in the middle of the Gulf.

That was the start of a four-year tour on that ship.

After tensions in the Middle East cooled, COVID hit.

That could be what cooled it down. It all runs together.

The ship was extended because of the pandemic.

Things never really calmed.

Stress mounted.

It affected my leadership on the ship and at home.

In hindsight, I wasn’t a great chief or a great husband.

My temper was awful—one sailor nicknamed me “Buckshot.”

I tried to do everything myself.

I didn’t fully trust God.

But when transfer time came, I hadn’t forgotten that church in Pensacola.

I made a plea to be stationed there.

I was told the chances of getting orders to Pensacola were slim.

But I’m convinced it is where God wanted me.

And the orders came through.

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We arrived in Pensacola, joined Marcus Pointe immediately, and enrolled our son in the church’s school.

One Sunday, the pastor asked for volunteers to lead small groups.

I told my wife to put our names down before I realized I had no idea how to lead a small group.

We’ve led that group for three years now.

Whether I now know how to lead a small group is debatable.

But it’s grown from four people to 30-plus.

We’ve seen marriages restored—including ours.

Baptisms.

Lifelong friends.

And, craziest of all, God used all of this to reveal to me a calling to ministry.

I am currently finalizing my last online courses at Liberty University and intend to transition into full-time ministry after my military retirement. In the meantime, I am trying to be obedient and serve where I can.

New trials are on the horizon.

We are now preparing for our next move to Virginia.

I really wanted to stay in Pensacola.

Apparently, that’s not God’s plan this time.

Whatever He has in store, I’m listening.

I’m trusting more than ever.

I’m anchoring my life in the truth of James 1:12—trusting God to keep my family and faith steadfast.

There is nothing better than a beach baptism.

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Mountain Mover

Andy Pettitte has five World Series rings.

He’s a three-time All-Star.

He’s got 19 postseason wins as a Yankee.

Is all that his purpose — or his platform?

God used Andy Pettitte’s testimony in Pensacola to reach me.

I’m not part of his legacy.

But I was part of that moment.

And that’s the point.

We are given moments in life for our ultimate purpose of serving God.

For years, I thought the Navy was my purpose.

It’s a noble calling—but it’s still just the platform.

God has used the Navy as a vessel not just to send me around the world, but also to connect me with people for gospel advancement.

On December 8, 2019, God docked me on a back-row pew of a Baptist church.

He steered me to a chance encounter with a pastor and a ballplayer.

Then He guided me through a four-year storm that included conflict, pandemic, and stress.

Even when I failed to acknowledge Him, He remained faithful.

Now I have a chance to create moments with people to point them to God.

Ask yourself this week—What is my purpose?

What is my platform?

Do I have those two things confused?

Where has God placed you to serve His gospel purpose?

Step up to the plate.

Every encounter counts.

Maybe you are in a season of testing?

Count it a joy!

Remain steadfast.

Make God your anchor.

Write this charge down and keep it close when the refining fire gets hot …

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. — James 1:12

Five years after sitting in the back row of Marcus Pointe Baptist Church, I was on the stage volunteering to help others have life-changing meetings with God. What a blessing!

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