When the Calls Stop: My Transition from the Military to a New Identity, one year later

My last day in uniform was June 15th, 2023. My friends and family gathered at the Suisun City Kroc Center to wish me well. One of my chaplain buddies( Joshua Semovoski ) did my invocation, one of my best friends Leanne M. Babcock officiated the ceremony, and some of the most important people in my life were front row to see me end my 24-year military career. After the ceremony, we went to our favorite Thai place - the same family-owned spot we had known for 15 years (they opened the same year I got there). It felt like a fitting sendoff, a last meal in the place where we had built so many memories.

That night, we returned to our trailer at Travis Fam Camp. We had been living there for the last couple of months, preparing for the move. The next morning, we drove away - toward Colorado, toward our future, toward the unknown.

I thought I had done all the right things and checked all the boxes… I paid attention in TAP (twice): check. Resume ready: check. VA prep work: check. Copies of my records: check. Applied for a new job and got new civilian clothes: check and check. I even did the other “above and beyond” things—New church? Check. Made time for friends and family? Check and check. I had listened to all the advice, but never once did anyone talk to me about what it feels like when your career DIES.

And really, in some ways it was like doing all the prep work for a funeral. Even though I did all the right things to be ready for it, I still had to deal with the grief of losing a big part of who I was all those years. Actually, maybe a funeral is a pretty good analogy: it may seem harsh, but a retirement ceremony is essentially a funeral for your career. I mean, they literally have someone give the equivalent of a eulogy over your career, and they HAND YOU A FOLDED AMERICAN FLAG.

At first, I didn’t have time to slow down. I had been accepted into a SkillBridge internship with Cadence International , and they welcomed me with open arms. It was a reminder that my life wasn’t random - it was orchestrated. God had set things in motion long before I even realized what I needed. The The COMMIT Foundation was also guiding me through my transition, pairing me with my mentor, Jamie Efaw , a fellow believer and YoungLife executive. After SkillBridge, I took a job with a law firm, thinking I had found my next step.

Then, as 2023 came to a close, everything hit me at once. My terminal leave was about to run out, and I knew the job wasn’t right for me. But the idea of quitting made me physically sick. I had spent my whole life with a mission, a plan, a purpose - and suddenly, I felt like I was stepping into nothing.

On New Year’s Eve, alone in a house I wasn’t sure I could afford, I felt it for the first time in my adult life: utter aloneness. My wife and kids were in Oklahoma visiting family, and I was staring at the walls, wondering how I was going to take care of them. No calls, no mission orders, no certainty - just me, sitting in that silence. And it was terrifying.

I wish I could say I pulled myself up by my bootstraps, but that wouldn’t be the truth. The truth is, I didn’t push through it - my friends, my family, and God carried me through it. Some of the other identities I’d been rooted in outside of the military were now the roots I was clinging to.

Krisha supported me no matter what. Our church family stepped in. Jamie mentored me. Jon Macaskill and Rebekah Macaskill stood by me. And then, three days later, I got word from the VA - my disability rating came through, which meant many of our financial burdens would be lifted. A few days after that, I applied for the VA’s VR&E program and was accepted - not just to finish my bachelor’s, but to go straight into a master’s program to become a therapist. Within a month, I was in school, walking a path I hadn’t planned, but one that was clearly laid out before me.

Looking back, I realize now that my time in the military wasn’t my purpose - it was just an assignment. My real identity had never been in a rank, a title, or a job. It had always been in something bigger than myself.

Now, I’m discovering that part of my purpose is helping others find theirs. If you’re feeling lost in transition, wondering what comes next, I want to help. You’re not alone in this. I’ve been there, and I know how overwhelming it can feel. But I also know that purpose isn’t gone - it just needs to be rediscovered.

For me, faith played a huge role in finding my way forward. When Krisha and I prayed for direction and committed to following the path in front of us, we found that things started falling into place in ways we never could have orchestrated on our own. One verse that stuck with me through it all was Matthew 6:33 - Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. That reminder helped me refocus on what mattered most, even when everything felt uncertain.

So if you’re in that place - staring at the silence, feeling alone in your own transition - know this: The mission isn’t over. The assignment just changed. You’re still called to something. And you’re not alone in it.

Keep seeking. Keep trusting. And when the calls stop, listen - because that’s when the real mission begins.

If this resonates with you, stay tuned - I'll be sharing more about my journey over the next few days. And if you need someone to talk to, reach out. I’d love to walk alongside you in finding your next mission. And hey, thanks for the other members of the veteran tribe like Jason O. Harris for talking me through my next steps.:-=)