It seems hard to believe, but it has now been more than five years since Isaiah 43 first nudged its way into my life. And here we are—still waiting for that Something New. Yes, much has changed. And yet, in many ways, I feel as though I am still sitting in a Waiting Room, watching the door, anticipating What’s Next? Deep in my heart, I genuinely believed the Lord was positioning me to have greater influence on the holistic needs of student‑athletes—a vision first articulated in a dissertation that few have read, but one that shaped my vocational hope. I believed God was doing a new thing at Union and inviting me into it.

Instead, before leadership transitions settled and long‑term strategies for student‑athlete success were implemented, I was told that my position was coming to an end. After more than thirty years of pouring my life into one organization, this twice‑over alum was no longer wanted as an employee. That is a difficult reality to absorb. I can’t say I was entirely surprised—when conversations go unheard and questions remain unanswered, unease takes root. You pray. You ask for wisdom and discernment. You hope—deeply—that God is indeed doing Something New that you simply cannot yet see.

Still, that kind of traumatic change introduces you to a season of Silent Grief—one you don’t quite know how to navigate. It isn’t the loss of a human being, not a death others readily acknowledge. And yet, you lose a life you once knew while continuing to breathe within a story you did not choose. That tension is precisely why Isaiah 43 resonates so loudly. Your heart longs to see the Something New promised by God, but you cannot see it. And a disruption like this—arriving in your fifties—was not the “new thing” you imagined.

For that reason, Gilbert’s message, “Peace, Be Still!”, speaks powerfully to the soul. More on that soon. But for now let’s focus on this passage. Isaiah 43 calls us to BOLO—to Be on the Lookout—for what God is already doing. But that is harder than it sounds when you no longer have Shared Stories with the people around you. When others have a history you weren’t a part of, it opens a tender wound from what was left behind in Jackson. These reminders surface often, especially as I read and research the stories of remarkable Troublesome Women of faith in athletics—stories born of countless conversations, years of trust, and legacies the world needs to hear.

Creating a new life is no small task. In leaving my alma mater, I also left behind more than forty years of relationships—acquaintances, colleagues, coaches, officials, and leaders. As others gather to celebrate Legacies at the Jackson–Madison County Sports Hall of Fame, I find myself far removed, attempting to BOLO for opportunities here in Kentucky. And yet, recognizing that Relational Equity—so easily taken for granted—can only be built with time is a humbling challenge.

Gilbert points us to a familiar story from the Gospel of Mark as a guide for navigating the anxiety that accompanies Something New. He reflects on the disciples caught in a storm with Jesus—a passage I’ll explore more fully later—but the question lingers: What do we do when we don’t know what the Something New is?

Gilbert offers this insight: “The truth of it is that nothing triggers anxiety quite like God’s silence. Those moments when you prayed and God didn’t seem to answer, those moments when you sought Him and couldn’t find what you were looking for.”

Those are precisely the seasons when BOLO‑ing matters most. If God brings us to a particular place—as He did the disciples in the middle of the Sea of Galilee—we can begin to set our worry aside. He is doing Something New. He does have a purpose. Sometimes we are simply called to wait long enough to recognize it.

Scripture is filled with heroes of faith who seem to make this look easy. But, friend, it is not. Still, I hold firmly to this promise: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion” (Philippians 1:6). I don’t yet know how God will do it, why He is doing it, or even where exactly in this Commonwealth I now find myself. But I do know that He will do Something New—if I can get out of the way and let Him.

And I’ll be honest. That part isn’t easy either.

Reference:

Gilbert, E. (2026, March 8). The storm within: How Jesus calms the storm of anxiety. 3Trees Church, Campbellsville, KY. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEYK9Eu56Lw