Life-Giving Words of Hope & Encouragement

As parents, something profound and beautiful happens when we bring children into the world: the dreams we once carried so closely for ourselves gradually shift. Not overnight, but little by little, our focus drifts away from personal ambition to a higher calling—the nurturing of another soul. The hopes we once held for our own lives now take root in the hearts of our children, growing stronger with every moment we pour into their lives.

I grew up in a military home, where the rhythm of life was dictated by deployments, duty stations, and discipline. There was structure, purpose, and resilience embedded in every fiber of our routine. It wasn’t always easy—goodbyes came too often, and stability was a moving target—but that lifestyle forged something inside me: adaptability, strength, and a deep respect for service.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of becoming a military chaplain. The idea of blending my love for God and country, offering spiritual guidance to those who sacrifice so much, felt like a divine calling. I imagined standing beside soldiers in their hardest moments, reminding them of hope and faith amid battle. But sometimes, God writes our stories differently than we expect.

Life brought me something unexpected yet equally sacred—my family. And while that dream of chaplaincy still quietly stirs in my heart, it has been lovingly overshadowed by the calling to be present in the lives of my children.

One memory that often replays in my mind is from when I was six years old. My mom took me to the airport to pick up my dad after a long TDY (Temporary Duty Assignment). He’d been gone so long, I could barely recall his face. I remember holding my mother’s hand tightly, searching a sea of strangers for someone I knew I was supposed to love but couldn’t quite recognize. Then, there he was. My mom gave me a gentle nudge, and suddenly I remembered—the warmth of his smile, the strength of his arms as he picked me up and spun me around.

It was a joyful reunion, but the time apart had left its mark. Back then, I didn’t understand the sacrifices my dad made. Now, as a parent myself, I do. I understand what it means to choose service. And in my own way, I’ve chosen service too—though it doesn’t involve boots and a uniform.

Instead, my battlefield looks like early morning breakfasts, math homework sessions, school drop-offs, and nighttime prayers. It looks like shopping trips with my daughter, listening to her ponder over the perfect skincare product. It’s in those little conversations, shared laughs, and everyday moments that I realize: this is my mission field.

These small, seemingly ordinary moments carry eternal weight. They are the stitches of connection, the foundation of trust, and the essence of presence. They’re the very things I longed for as a child—consistency, engagement, and love that showed up day after day.

Letting go of an old dream isn’t giving up—it’s transformation. It’s the sacred surrender of our will to something more meaningful, more eternal. As parents, we begin to live for the dreams of our children. Their victories become our greatest achievements. Their joy becomes our fulfillment.

But that doesn’t mean our dreams vanish. They evolve. My passion for ministry is still alive. My heart still beats for the military community. And who knows? Perhaps one day I will wear that chaplain’s uniform. But even if I don’t, I’ve come to understand that serving my family is no less holy than preaching in a pulpit or standing beside a soldier in need.

If you’ve found yourself wrestling with unfulfilled dreams or the ache of postponed ambitions, know this: God is not done with your story. Sometimes our greatest legacy isn’t what we accomplish, but who we raise. The seeds of faith, love, and encouragement we plant in our children will grow into a harvest we may not fully see this side of heaven.

The “what ifs” of life may occasionally tap us on the shoulder, but we mustn’t let them steal today’s joy. The life you’re building right now matters. The love you’re giving, the time you’re investing, the sacrifices you’re making—all of it is seen by the One who called you to this sacred task.

So while my childhood dream may look different today, I’ve come to see that I’m already living a dream—a dream crafted by God, full of meaning and eternal purpose.

And who knows? The story isn’t over yet.

Prayer:

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the dreams You place in our hearts and for the wisdom to know when to pursue them and when to release them. Help us to trust that Your timing is perfect and that no calling is wasted when it’s surrendered to You. Strengthen every parent who reads this—remind them that their love, their sacrifice, and their presence matter deeply. Show them the beauty in their daily faithfulness, and let them feel Your joy over their service. Whether our mission is in the world or at home, help us to walk in it with grace and gratitude. May our children rise up and call us blessed, and may we always remember that You are the Author of dreams—even the ones we didn’t know we wanted. In Jesus’ name, Amen.