The Free Job That Opened the Door

“For the kingdom of heaven is like a man traveling to a far country, who called his own servants and delivered his goods to them.”

— Matthew 25:14 (NKJV)

I was taught early as a young Christian that giving mattered. Not the kind of giving that makes a show of itself, but the everyday kind where you just don’t clutch after money. I tried to live that way. I enjoyed what I had, but I didn’t hold it tight.

I had some abilities as a carpenter and general handyman. Nothing fancy. Just the kind of work a man can do with his hands if he’s willing.

It was 1982. My sister-in-law worked for a doctor — Dr. Cooper, an obstetrician, the kind who takes care of women before their babies are born. She referred my wife to him, and he became her prenatal doctor. Somewhere along the way he heard I was a carpenter and needed a little work done in his office. It wasn’t a big job. Just some things that needed fixing or building.

I took it on. I didn’t charge him. Did it as a freebie. That simple act turned into something I never planned.

We became friends. Not the surface kind. Real friendship. Then he mentioned he was planning a large kitchen remodel at his house. I took that job on and quit my regular work. It was a step. A real one.

The relationship with the doctor and his wife grew through that project. I can still remember the hours we spent talking — about the work, about life, about whatever came up. The job was good. Solid. Successful.

As that kitchen was coming to an end I stepped out in faith. I trusted that God was going to provide the next one. I didn’t have a plan beyond that. Just the quiet sense that He would take care of it.

Right across the street from the house I was working on, another house had been on the market. A family bought it. The man of the house noticed the work trucks across the street and walked over one day to introduce himself. That job turned out to be ten times bigger than the one I had just finished.

That is how the career launched. Not through a big advertisement or a clever plan. Through a freebie, a friendship, and a step of faith when the first job was done.

I had a young family. Our first child, Melissa, was either about to be born or was already a tiny baby while I was working on that doctor’s house. Dr. Cooper delivered her in 1982. There is a picture of me holding her shortly after, still in the hospital, scrubs on, mask pulled down, her wrapped in a white blanket. I look like a man who cannot believe what he is holding. The next year he delivered our second, Michael, in 1983. There is another picture from that day — me and Dr. Cooper, both of us still in the room, masks down, and Michael there with us. And none of that happens without Tammie. She is the one who carried them and birthed Melissa in 1982 and Michael in 1983. I held them. She brought them into the world. There is a picture of the two of us on the sofa just before Melissa came, her almost ready, both of us smiling like we had no idea how big this was going to be. Looking back now, I can see how God was already providing — not just work, but the kind of provision that settles a young father’s heart.

Over the years we have seen the same faithfulness again and again. It has not always been easy. There have been scary stretches. Frightening stretches. Countless sleepless nights wondering how the next job or the next need would be met. But I can testify: God is faithful. Faithful with finances. Faithful with relationships. Faithful in the long run when the short run feels uncertain.

In a roundabout way it was the American economy at work — a man willing to work with his hands, another man needing the work done. But deeper than that, it was the parable of the talents lived out in ordinary life. I didn’t bury what I had been given. I gave it away in that first free job. And it proved itself faithful.

“His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’”

— Matthew 25:21 (NKJV)

Years later that same doctor delivered two of our beautiful grandbabies. Abigail in 2013, and Alison in 2015. There is a picture of me and Dr. Cooper from 2013, when Abigail was born. Another of the three of us — me, Dr. Cooper, and Michael. And one of me, Dr. Cooper, and Melissa, the baby he first delivered in 1982, standing with us years later with visitor badges still stuck to our shirts. Sitting in those moments, watching him care for the next generation of our family, it felt full circle. Humbling. A quiet understanding of God’s wonderful provision, His mercy, His goodness.

Shared Prayer

Father, thank You for the small things we give away without knowing what You will do with them. Thank You for the work of our hands, for the friendships You weave through ordinary jobs, and for the nights when we could not see the next step and You still provided. Teach us not to clutch. Teach us to step out. You have been faithful. You still are. Amen.

To God be the glory.