God's Comedic Timing
Non Burning Bush Moments
In about three weeks, it will have been exactly one year since my wife and I found our new home in our local church. As that anniversary approaches, I’ve been reflecting on a few “I can’t believe this is happening” moments that I like to call God’s Comedic Timing.
My hope is that through this lens, you’ll begin to notice that God is speaking to you in the everyday. If we shift our perspective just a little, we can start to see these little God moments happening all around us.
We had moved to a new part of town almost a year before that weekend. Just two months after we moved, my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer.
At the time, my faith wasn’t a priority. Honestly, I was mad at God. Like a rebellious teenager, I chose not to talk to Dad during that period of life.
That part of the story is something I’ll unpack later. For now, I want to focus on the ways God’s voice sometimes feels like a funny joke, perfectly timed, and undeniably Him.
Stick with me.
Something happened in August of 2024.
I remember it clearly. Taylor and I were driving somewhere when I turned to her and asked where her friends went to church.
That moment was sparked by something she’d said a few weeks earlier. She told me she wanted our boys to grow up in the church. That hit me. The old me would’ve hesitated, mostly because of some church hurt I experienced in my teenage years. Another story for another time.
But something lit up in me on that drive when I asked where her friends went to church. Emphasis on her friends.
We got a short list of two or three churches.
That weekend, we showed up at Grace.
I had no idea what to expect.
As we passed the donuts and coffee table, a jacked, bearded man locked eyes with me and said I should be proud of my mustache, because he was proud of it. At the moment I doubted he would even remember that encounter, as he greeted every single person walking into the sanctuary. I later realized that he probably knows just about everyone at Grace. That man, Andy, is now someone I know as an elder at the church (and not the “old guy” kind either). Thats important to note.
Taylor looked at me and asked if I knew him. I of course didn’t. We laughed and were ushered to our seats.
The message was powerful. The coffee was surprisingly good. And everyone was normal. No performative Christianity, which I can’t stand.
After service, Taylor and I got in the truck. She looked at me and asked, “Did we just find our new church?”
“I think so,” I said, brushing donut icing from my mustache.
Much to our friends’ dismay, we never visited the other churches, and I’m glad we didn’t.
That was moment number one. Looking back I see it, but at the time I didn’t.
Moment two came a few months later when I decided that I was going to give Grace a real chance, and committed to leaning in for a year. See where this could take me.
So I made the assumption that the next step would be to join a small group. I mean, that’s what churchgoers do, right?
I reached out to the pastor in charge and laid out what I was hoping to find: likeminded guys around my age, with young kids, and ideally business owners. He told me I was being a little specific, but that I’d find my people.
I showed up to the dinner at church, got placed at a table, and about ten minutes in I texted my wife, “I’m sitting at the young single adults table.” If this were Harry Potter, the sorting hat definitely put me in Hufflepuff when I was meant to be in Gryffindor.
I got home and we laughed. It had to be some kind of joke, and in reality it turned out to be one. One of the best.
I decided to give the group three meetups (though they didn’t know it). On the third one, I met a young girl named Rylee. We spoke briefly and that was it.
During that same meetup, I mentioned that I was attending a Thursday night class. She said her boyfriend, now husband, was going and asked if she could share my contact. That guy was Davis. A small business owner. He’d acquired his business a few years earlier. For the sake of this story, I’ll just say that he was where I had been years ago, but light years ahead of me in maturity and faith.
That chance encounter was moment number two. Over the next few months, we met for early morning coffee chats, and eventually, they blessed me by asking if I would officiate their wedding.
That still blows my mind.
Moment three came soon after when I awkwardly introduced myself to a guy named Ronnie during a Men’s Theology class. I recognized his business logo on his shirt, and then without thinking asked him “Do you happen to live…,” and described his house in extreme detail. When he hesitantly affirmed it I responded with “Oh, I know. I walk past your house every day.” In hindsight I’m surprised we ever became friends.
But Ronnie just laughed. We became friends and our wives are practically inseparable now, and more to the comedic timing, my youngest and their daughter are only a week apart. God knew we needed friends like that.
And then there’s Pat.
Pat was leading the Thursday night class I had signed up for, the same class that led me to meet Davis. I didn’t know it then, but Pat would become one of the most influential people in launching this digital arm of Dad’s Fight Club.
He’s one of those guys who doesn’t talk just to fill silence. When he speaks, it’s intentional. Encouraging. Honest. And he’s not fake, he has a testimony and is willing to share it.
I had to miss the final session of his class so I had reached out to thank him for the content, and that resulted in a coffee meeting.
He pushed me to step into what I had already started calling Fight Club, half-joking, half-serious, he reminded me that Jesus hand selected his friends so why not embrace that deliberate cultivation of the Fight Club Crew?
I had written a Field Guide to Fight Club as a personal way for me to formalize my thoughts about the group and shared it with him. His feedback was what shifted the idea of taking Fight Club to another level.
What started as a casual hangout has become something more. A growing vision for a digital space where men can be challenged, sharpened, and reminded they’re not alone. A place built for dads, husbands, and everyday guys trying to follow Jesus without pretending to have it all together.
God’s comedic timing is real. It rarely shows up as a booming voice or a burning bush. Both of which, if they were to happen to me, would probably leave me with soiled pants.
His voice can be as simple as a friend saying, “You’ve got something here. Don’t ignore it.”
It looks like a mentor showing up week after week, not to fix you, but to walk beside you.
So stop waiting for the big, dramatic sign.
Reset your vision.
Pay attention to the people God keeps placing in your path.
Because the most unexpected moments often carry the most eternal weight.
You won’t see it coming.
But you’ll be glad it came.
In your corner,
Chance