I always believed I had a kind of resilience in me. No matter what happened, I used to tell myself, “I’ll manage… I’ll survive somehow on my own.” After I finished school in 2007, I made a quiet decision in my heart. I didn’t want to trouble my dad anymore. I didn’t want to keep asking him for money or depend on him for everything. Somehow, in whatever way I could, I wanted to take care of myself.

But life has a way of teaching us things we never planned to learn. My dad always wanted me to study medicine. He truly believed I had the ability. During school, I did well in science and mathematics, and I loved learning. Even today, that desire hasn’t left me. In his heart, my dad carried a quiet dream—that I would become the first doctor in our family. He may not have said it openly, but I could feel how deeply it mattered to him. After trying to guide my elder brother into a professional path and seeing it not work out, his hope rested fully on me.

Even before my 12^th-grade results came out, he had already prepared everything, right from application forms, college options, and conversations with people who could help. Studying medicine in India is expensive, and my dad was not a wealthy man. He was just an Adventist pastor, and pastors are not highly paid. Yet he was willing to risk everything because he trusted me.

Then the results came—and everything changed.

I scored far below what was needed. I didn’t even cross 60%, when the requirement for medicine was much higher. Minimum is 75%. I still remember that moment. My dad was shattered; the dreams he had quietly carried for years collapsed right in front of him. He looked at me and said, “What am I going to do with you? You broke all my dreams.” Then he threw all the application forms at me and said, “Go find your own college.”

You know I have never forgotten that moment.

Looking back now, I understand his pain. He came from a difficult background. He struggled to complete his own education. He carried the hope that his children would have a better future. And in that moment, it must have felt like everything slipped away. But I also knew something else—I knew why I failed. Instead of studying during my final exams, I was distracted. I spent time chatting with someone I liked, yes, a pretty girl, haha, pretending to study when I wasn’t. I was young, around 16 or 17, and I didn’t understand the value of what I had in front of me, and yes, I had to face the consequences of that.

“Sometimes our greatest regrets are not our failures—but the moments we didn’t take seriously when we had the chance.”

I began figuring things out on my own. I went from college to college, looking for a seat, but most of the colleges I went to rejected me coz I had a very low score in my 12^th grade. Finally, I was able to get into an arts and science college. They looked at my score, and they said, ” We can only give you a BSC (Bachelor’s in Computer Science).

I did not like that course at all, then finally, by God’s grace, I got another seat to do BCA (Bachelor’s in Computer Applications). I was trying to understand what I could do next. I want to survive now for 3 years in college, and I don’t want to ask my dad for money. There was guilt, but there was also determination. If I had failed, then I had to take responsibility for it. But you know, somewhere in all of this, God had already placed something in my hands.

I had a gift for music. I could play the keyboard well, and people around me knew it. So in my free time, mostly on the weekends, I used to go to Sunday churches to play keyboard during their Sunday services. I wouldn’t stay for the full service; I would go, play, get my money for those hours, and leave. They would give me 400 or 500 rupees for a few hours, and for me, that was more than enough at that time. Then I also started teaching keyboard to children from my church and other churches around. One student became a few, and slowly, week by week, I began earning enough to support myself.

I didn’t have much, but I had enough. I didn’t spend unnecessarily. I didn’t have bad habits. I returned tithe, saved what I could, and sometimes even forgot where I had hidden money in my wallet. Even now, I still do that, and my wife finds it funny. She remembers where I keep things better than I do.

But looking back now, I realize something deeper was happening in my life. At that time, I thought I was just surviving, doing whatever I could to manage things on my own. I believed it was my determination that was keeping me going. But now, I see it differently.

I was learning resilience. Not the kind you talk about easily, but the kind that is built quietly in uncomfortable places. Maybe you’ve experienced something like this too—when life doesn’t go the way you planned, and suddenly you are forced to grow faster than you expected. In those moments, it feels like you are alone, figuring everything out step by step, and that’s exactly how I felt. But the truth is, I was never alone.

“What feels like survival in the moment is often God shaping strength for the future.”

He was there in ways I didn’t even recognize at that time. He gave me skills when I needed them. He opened doors when I didn’t know where to go next. He provided just enough, right when I needed it. And in moments where I could have easily given up, He carried me through. “God doesn’t always remove the struggle, but He always strengthens the person walking through it.”

Those early struggles shaped me more than I realized. Later in life, when bigger challenges came, I had already learned how to endure. I had already walked through uncertainty. I had already experienced what it means to trust, even when I didn’t fully understand what was happening. By the time I was 20, I had become a studio director, leading a team. It came early, and honestly, it felt overwhelming at times. But I wasn’t afraid. Somewhere deep inside, I knew that the same God who carried me before would carry me again.

I often think about Joseph in the Bible. He went through things he never chose—rejection, betrayal, prison, and years of waiting. But through all of it, God was preparing him. Every painful moment had a purpose, even when it didn’t make sense at the time. In the end, Joseph didn’t just survive, but he became the reason many others survived.

“God prepares us in hidden seasons for responsibilities we have not yet seen.”

He builds strength in us through the very things we wish we could avoid. Because comfort doesn’t prepare us, and an easy life doesn’t grow us. It is in the difficult moments, the confusion, and the broken expectations that something deeper is formed within us. There’s a story my dad used to tell me about a man walking with God along the shore.

^{Footprints in the sand — a quiet reminder that in our hardest moments, we were never walking alone.}

The man saw two sets of footprints in the sand—his and God’s. But during the hardest moments of his life, he noticed only one set of footprints. He became upset and asked God, “Why did You leave me when I needed You the most?” And God replied, “Those footprints are not yours, they are Mine. I carried you.” God was carrying me all the while. “When you feel most alone, you may actually be the closest you’ve ever been to being carried by the Lord.”And maybe, in your life right now, it feels the same.

Things didn’t go the way you expected. Maybe you feel like you’ve failed, or like you’ve disappointed someone, or even yourself. But even there, God has not left you. If you allow Him, He can take what feels like failure and turn it into something meaningful. He can use your struggles to shape your strength. He can take your broken plans and build a story from them.

What you are going through right now is not wasted. Even if it feels confusing or painful, God is doing something in you. “Your story is not falling apart—God is quietly putting it together in a way you cannot yet see.” One day, when you look back, you won’t just see struggle, but you will see how you were carried by the Lord through it all.