As we are making our way through the journal entries from my time in the fiery furnace, we are approaching the part that scorched me the deepest—the loss of Little Man. To understand the weight of that loss, I need to first introduce you to him. Little Man wasn’t just a pet. He was God’s provision, sent at a time when my heart was hardened and my spirit was the darkest.
This is the story of how a little dog became a big part of my life, my growth, and my healing—and how, through him, God began the work of softening my heart and drawing me back to Himself.
I used to think my businesses were about helping people, but God showed me otherwise. Standing by the Vltava River in 2014, I realized my ambitions had been fueled by a desire for financial freedom, not genuine care for others. The next day, when I felt an overwhelming urge to help a man in need but couldn’t move, God revealed the truth: I had never truly cared about people. That moment shattered me, and years later, in the fiery furnace, He reminded me of it. His calling had never changed—I had just needed to become the person who could walk in it. We can take detours, delay, or resist, but we cannot ruin what God has ordained. His calling stands.
