by Pastor Mike
I am writing this on the morning of July 13th, 2026, as I watch a downpour of rain outside my window after many long, parched weeks without the nourishment of rain. It is amazing how quickly weather patterns can change—how they shift, ebb, and flow. Nature reminds us that nothing remains fixed for very long. We have to pay attention to these changes, especially when we venture beyond the shelter of familiar shores. I cannot imagine how the sailors of old, aboard square-rigged ships and sturdy schooners, navigated the treacherous shoals, rocks, and sandbanks along our nation’s coastline.
They lived at the mercy of wind and waves, with only their skill, experience, and faith to guide them through fog, darkness, and the sudden fury of storms. Every voyage demanded humility before forces far greater than themselves. This morning my heart is joyous because the rain has finally come. I know that the plants, the animals, and even we ourselves will be quenched and relieved by this summer shower, no matter how long or brief it may be.
But my heart is a little heavy this morning, and I wanted to share with you why.
This past week, I was informed that my chaplaincy credentials with the United States Coast Guard were being rescinded because I was not maintaining the required involvement with the Coast Guard Auxiliary. Fulfilling those requirements would have demanded many days—perhaps even months—of additional training, plus having to completely redo my chaplaincy courses, evaluations, and re-application to the Auxiliary. While the cause certainly warranted that investment, where I am in my life right now, as the father of two young children and living three hours from the coast, I made the difficult decision not to pursue the renewal of my chaplaincy.
For the past five years, I have had the privilege of serving as chaplain to the United States Coast Guard Station on Galveston Island. I began that ministry during the difficult days of 2021, at the tail end of the COVID-19 pandemic’s worst period, while serving as pastor of Sunset United Methodist Church in Pasadena, Texas. When I later moved to Fairfield, the ministry continued with me. Three days each month, I would make the drive to Galveston, spending time on the base, going out on patrol, and ministering to the men and women entrusted to my care.
I experienced life aboard an 87-foot Marine Protector-class patrol cutter. I joined escort missions, patrolled the coastline, and participated in search-and-rescue operations. I witnessed training with rescue swimmers, helped escort the USCGC Eagle when it visited Galveston, and participated in numerous interdictions involving crisis management. More importantly, I had the privilege of getting to know some of the finest men and women in our nation’s service and of ministering to them directly. It was an extraordinary blessing, one that I will always treasure.
But with the arrival of our son, Shepherd, last year, those trips became increasingly difficult. Leaving my wife alone for two or three days at a time with two young children weighed heavily on me. The six-hour round-trip drive became more exhausting, and the financial cost continued to grow. I’m not offering excuses. Rather, I’m trying to explain why, looking back, it seems that God was gently preparing me for a door that was about to close.
The door to my ministry with the Coast Guard closed rather abruptly. I wasn’t prepared for it. I wasn’t asking for it. I certainly wasn’t praying for it. And yet, it happened.
That is what I wanted to talk with you about this morning.
How do we, as Christians, respond when God allows a door to close unexpectedly? How do we respond when the path we believed we were walking suddenly ends? We often speak about waiting on God’s timing or trusting in His plan, but that can be incredibly difficult when His plan asks us to surrender something we deeply love. It requires faith—faith that God is already present in the changes we neither expected nor desired. Faith that He is leading us, even when we cannot yet see where the current is taking us next.
Change is unsettling. It creates uncertainty. Perhaps most of all, at least for me, it exposes how little control I truly have. I like having a plan. I like knowing where I am headed. But life has a way of reminding us that we were never truly in control to begin with. The best thing we can do is to place our lives into God’s hands. That phrase can sound cliché, but it becomes profoundly real when we are faced with circumstances we cannot change.
This morning I find great comfort in Paul’s words to the church at Philippi: “And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” — Philippians 1:6
I believe with all my heart that the work God began in me five years ago through the ministry of the Coast Guard was good and faithful work. Those years mattered. The conversations mattered. The prayers mattered. The friendships mattered. None of that has been wasted. And because God wastes nothing, I trust that He will take everything He accomplished during those years and continue His work in ways that I cannot yet imagine. The ministry may have changed, but the calling has not. I’m excited to discover what comes next, even as I grieve what has ended.
I also wanted to share this with you because I hope it serves as a reminder that even pastors—those of us who spend our lives studying Scripture and encouraging others to trust the Lord—sometimes struggle with God’s plan. Faith does not eliminate the struggle. Rather, faith gives us the courage to walk through it. The struggle is not the problem. The strength lies in our willingness to trust the One who walks beside us through every unexpected turn.
So let us journey together, friends, as we continue to navigate the shoals, the storms, and the peaceful calms of the life God has set before us. Just as today’s long-awaited rain reminds us that dry seasons do not last forever, may we also remember that when one door closes, God’s grace continues to nourish the path ahead.
Have a wonderful week, and may God bless you.
—
Pastor Mike McVey
First United Methodist Church, Fairfield TX
Chaplain – Texas Game Warden Service
Email: pastormike@fumcfairfield.org
Cell: 919-935-2513
