Destiny stood at the edge of adulthood with a quiet determination. She wasn’t reckless, and she wasn’t naïve. She was aware enough to know that the next few years mattered. Decisions about work, attitude, faith, and relationships would quietly shape the course of her life. She didn’t want to stumble into adulthood assuming she would “figure it out along the way.” She wanted a good start.
More than that, she wanted to honor God—not just in church, but in the everyday places where character is formed. So she prayed with unusual clarity for her age: “Lord, help me find someone who knows how to walk with You… and is willing to help me learn.”
One name kept coming to mind. Chanel.
Chanel was a woman Destiny admired for all the right reasons. Her life wasn’t flashy, but it was consistent. She carried herself with humility, worked hard, spoke thoughtfully, and seemed genuinely anchored in her faith. God wasn’t a compartment in her life—He was woven into it. Destiny admired her quietly for a while. Then she remembered something she had recently read: Wisdom is often waiting—but it doesn’t chase us. So she chose courage. She sent a message.
“Hi Chanel. You don’t know me well, but I’m stepping into adulthood and trying to make good decisions. I’ve noticed your walk with God and how you carry yourself. Would you be willing to meet for coffee sometime? I’d love to ask a few questions and learn from you.”
Destiny hit send and immediately wondered if she had overstepped. She hadn’t. Chanel replied, “I’d be happy to.”
Destiny didn’t treat the meeting casually. She prepared questions. She arrived early. She offered to pay for coffee and a treat. And as they began, their conversation, Chanel asked about her life. Destiny answered honestly—without pretending she had it all together.
When Destiny mentioned an upcoming job interview, Chanel leaned in. “Let me give you a little counsel,” she said gently. “Not just about the interview—but about work itself.”
She spoke from experience. “In the interview, don’t try to impress them with confidence you don’t have. Be honest, eager, and teachable. Employers can train skills—but they can’t teach character.”
Then she added, “And if you get the job, remember this: your work is ultimately done unto the Lord. Show up early. Listen well. Work hard when no one is watching. Excellence honors God long before it impresses people.”
Destiny wrote everything down. She prayed over it that night. A week later, her phone rang. She got the job. Joy filled her—but so did gratitude.
She messaged Chanel immediately: “I got it. Thank you for helping me prepare.”
They celebrated with another coffee, thanking God together—not just for the job, but for His guidance. Before they parted, Chanel smiled and said, “Would you like to do this again sometime? Maybe every few months—just to talk about life?” Destiny didn’t hesitate. “I’d love that.”
Quarterly coffees became a rhythm. They talked about work challenges, attitudes, faith, relationships, and boundaries. When Destiny faced uncertainty, she didn’t isolate—she sought counsel. When decisions came, she approached them prayerfully, not impulsively.
Years passed more quickly than Destiny expected.
One evening, after another promotion and a growing confidence rooted not in pride but in perspective, Destiny realized something profound. She had missed many opportunities to fail. Not because she was perfect—but because she had been humble early. Wisdom had saved her time. Counsel had spared her unnecessary pain. Seeking guidance had given her momentum.
At one of their coffees, Destiny brought a small, thoughtful gift. Chanel looked surprised. “What’s this for?” Destiny smiled, her voice steady but sincere. “For helping me get off to a good start. For answering questions I didn’t even know how to ask. For walking with me when I was just beginning.” Chanel smiled back. “You did the hardest part,” she said. “You asked.”
That night, Destiny opened her Bible and read a verse that now felt deeply personal: Ecclesiastes 9:10 (NLT) “Whatever you do, do well. For when you go to the grave, there will be no work or planning or knowledge or wisdom.”
She understood it clearly now. Wisdom has a window. Humility has a moment. And asking early changes everything. A good start, she realized, is one of God’s quietest—and greatest—gifts!
