Still on the Road: Finding My Place After Trucking

It’s been three months since I last recorded an episode of the Orthodox Trucker podcast or wrote here on the blog. A lot has changed in that time. The last time I sat down at the mic, I was still a long-haul truck driver, living life by the mile and the logbook. Now, the truck keys are hung up, and for the first time in over a decade, I’m off the road, hopefully permanently.

In mid-August, I stepped away from trucking. That decision wasn’t just about a job. It was about my family, my health, and the tugging sense that the Lord was calling me to something different. Since then, I’ve been walking through one of the biggest seasons of transition in my life: finishing my Bachelor’s degree, being accepted into multiple graduate programs in organizational leadership and management, and working to pivot into a career that isn’t tied to transportation or logistics.

I don’t know exactly what’s next. I know what I’m searching for: leadership, mentoring, guiding, helping others grow. In the meantime, I’ve been working as a paraeducator and substitute teacher at my son’s school. Every morning when I step into that little school building, I remember: this is where my presence matters most right now. This is where I can invest in my son’s life, and in the lives of the kids in our rural community.

But before I share what’s happening locally, I need to be honest about something bigger — about what’s happening in our country, and in my own heart.

The past few weeks have been heavy. I don’t even have to say it — the world has gone nuts. The headlines are filled with outrage, violence, polarization, and distraction.

The assassination of Charlie Kirk hit me hard. His death made me cry. I didn’t expect it to affect me the way it did, but it did. What’s been even harder, though, has been watching people on the left celebrate it. That broke something in me. It made me angry — angry at them, angry at the media, and even angry at myself for getting pulled into the cycle of outrage yet again.

I’ve spent most of my life as a Democrat. But in the past few years, I’ve found myself shifting, and today I’d have to call myself a Republican. That shift didn’t come from party loyalty — it came from frustration. Frustration at the media. Frustration at policies that seem to undermine families and communities. Frustration at the sheer cruelty of people celebrating death because it happened to someone they disagreed with.

But here’s the truth I’ve had to face: being furious at the national news doesn’t help me, my family, or my community.

For the past six or seven weeks, I’ve been trying to make a conscious effort to step away from the rage-fueled headlines and the temptation to live in that national anger. Instead, I’ve been asking myself: What can I do right here? What can I do in Endicott, Washington? What can I do in my son’s school, or my church, or my neighborhood?

Because the answer isn’t in Washington, D.C. The answer isn’t in cable news or Twitter or YouTube. The answer is in our communities. It’s in showing up for our kids. It’s in being present for our neighbors. It’s in caring for the person God has put in front of us.

That brings me to something that’s been stirring in me for months now: Scouting.

I grew up in the Boy Scouts of America. I started as a Cub Scout, worked my way through the ranks, and earned my Eagle Scout award. I spent over 15 years in the program, and even after aging out, I stayed involved as an adult. Scouting shaped who I am. It taught me resilience, responsibility, leadership, and faith. It gave me friendships and memories that still matter to this day.

But things have changed. Numbers are down. Councils are consolidating. Camps are closing. I recently learned that both of my old troops: Troop 765 in California and Troop 1904 in Montana… are gone. Even Camp Three Falls in Ventura County, where I spent summers sweating under the pines, is closed and up for sale. The organization that formed me in the 1990s is a shadow of what it once was.

And yet, the heart of Scouting is still alive. The skills are still there. The lessons still matter. The need for boys and girls to learn responsibility, to experience the outdoors, to grow in leadership and service, that hasn’t changed.

For years, I wanted my son John to be involved in Scouting. But the closest troop was over an hour away, and that just wasn’t feasible. I thought about starting something here in Endicott, but I hesitated. Would there be enough interest? Would anyone help? Was it even worth the effort?

Then I started talking to people in the community. And to my surprise, one “maybe” turned into a “yes.” Then another. And another. The more I shared the idea, the more people leaned in. Families were interested. Leaders were supportive. Suddenly, it wasn’t just an idea, it was happening.

I met with our local district executive. I started working on paperwork. I set a meeting with a potential charter organization. And now, we’re planning our first information night on October 3rd.

I don’t know if this little spark in Endicott will grow into a full-blown troop that lasts for generations. But I do know this: even if it helps just a handful of kids, it will be worth it. Because the best way I can respond to the madness of the world is not by shouting louder, but by serving deeper.

I can’t fix the nation. I can’t change the media. I can’t stop polarization.

But I can show up for a few kids.
I can teach them knots and fire-building, sure, but more importantly, I can teach them honor, respect, and perseverance.
I can help my son grow into the man God is calling him to be.
I can stand in the gap in my little school and make sure kids feel seen and valued.
I can plant seeds of faith, service, and leadership that may bear fruit years down the road.

I can plant seeds of faith, service, and leadership that may bear fruit years down the road.

That’s how I’m learning to live these days: with my focus on the local. On the people in front of me. On the community God has given me.

Because maybe, just maybe, that’s how we really change the world. Not with sweeping national movements or endless arguments online, but with a domino effect of local faithfulness.

I may not be behind the wheel of a semi anymore, but trucking is still in my blood. Once you’ve lived that life,  the long nights on the interstate, the endless horizon, the strange mix of freedom and fatigue, it never leaves you. It’s a part of who I am.

And I’m still Orthodox. That will never change. The road may look different now, but Christ is still at the center. The prayers, the fasts, the feasts, the rhythm of the Church calendar, they are what hold me steady when everything else feels like it’s in motion.

So maybe someday I’ll rename this blog. Maybe Orthodox Trucker will become something else. Or maybe it will stay what it is, a reminder of where I’ve come from, even as I keep moving forward.

What I know for sure is this: I’m not done writing. I’m not done podcasting. I’m not done sharing the road, even if the road looks different now.

Before I close, I’ll circle back to where I started: work. I’m still looking for that next full-time role, one that isn’t tied to trucking or logistics, but to leadership, mentoring, training, or development. I’ve applied for jobs. I’ve interviewed. Some doors have closed, some are still opening.  I still have a few irons in the fire. 

In the meantime, I’m choosing to see this season not as “waiting,” but as preparation. I’m sharpening my skills. I’m investing in my son and my community. I’m building something with Scouting. I’m laying the groundwork for what comes next.

The road has changed, but the journey isn’t over. And as long as Christ is with me, as long as I keep my eyes on Him, I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Lord, have mercy. Guide my steps, strengthen my hands, and bless the work before me.

Thanks for reading my friends.  wherever you are, whatever road you’re on: keep pressing forward. You don’t have to fix the world. Just be faithful with what’s in front of you. That’s where the Kingdom breaks in.

– Orthodox Trucker