New Beginnings
Isaiah 43:19
For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
Throughout Scripture, we see how the Unchanging One loves to do new things. That’s life with Christ: being gently nudged into transformation. The new year naturally invites us to turn the page: a fresh start, a new chapter, a beginning shaped by hope rather than fear.
I’ve had many fresh starts in my life. Moving away from home for college as a teenager. University. Leaving my boyfriend of 10 years in Montreal to move to Toronto. Divorce. Starting fresh in a new town in the suburbs. A broken engagement. And then, getting remarried just a year ago. Through all these seasons, I’ve never seen God manifest as a burning bush or heard His audible voice directing my steps, but I’ve always felt His presence. A deep uneasiness when something wasn’t right. A quiet peace when it was. I knew it was Him.
I’ve shared parts of my story before, but I’ve never shared how I met my husband, Eric.
A client suggested I try a dating app. I didn’t really want to date; I just wanted companionship, someone to go out to dinner with, to talk to, to laugh with. One sleepless night, I decided to go “man shopping”. I created an incognito profile using my middle name and my mother’s maiden name, borrowed a random photo from the internet, set up a Hotmail account, and signed in.
Almost immediately, I saw someone I worked with. Then a chef I knew (very far from my ideal man). Hard pass!
I had my settings locked on men in the GTA, and I swiped left relentlessly. I went on one date with someone who had clearly used a photo from two decades earlier. It was disastrous. Meanwhile, Eric, who was in the military and stationed in Kingston, had created a profile on a different app owned by the same company, one geared toward people over 50. He set his search east, hoping to meet someone either in Kingston or closer to Quebec, where his kids live.
Between all the left-swiping on both sides, the algorithm eventually did what only God could orchestrate: it crossed the streams.
I saw a photo of a man wearing sunglasses, flying a plane, with a dog in the back seat. I took a chance and swiped right. He did too.
We started messaging. He was a gentleman. He asked me out for coffee. I said no. I wasn’t interested in wasting time unless I knew there was real alignment. So we texted instead. There’s something about the safety of a keyboard that makes it easier to ask all the important questions.
Was he a believer? Check.
Did he love his family? Check.
Did he plan to retire anytime soon? No. Check.
Was he kind, respectful, thoughtful, affectionate? Check, check, check!
He was originally from Quebec and French-speaking. We could have crossed paths as teenagers; we hung out in the same places in Montreal, shared the same cultural references, the same memories. We clicked. I finally agreed to meet him, on one condition: he had to plan the date.
He showed up with flowers.
We walked the streets of a small Ontario town and talked for five hours straight. The sparks were instant. A few weeks later, we were dancing in my kitchen while burning dinner. A year later, we were engaged. Last December, we were married in Bromont, surrounded by our children and families. This Christmas, we celebrated one year of marriage.
I’ve never felt so loved. It feels like a miracle because logically, we never should have met. We didn’t live in the same city. We weren’t even on the same app. Yet here we are.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly building a life with my partner. Dreaming together. Chasing God and choosing honesty every day. We made a promise early on to never let disappointment fester. We talk about everything, the good, the hard, the uncomfortable—right away. As my motto says: what you allow will continue. So we don’t allow silence, resentment, or unspoken expectations. We’re still learning. Still growing. Together.
What I know now is this: God doesn’t need perfect conditions to write a beautiful story. He needs availability. Obedience. Trust. The moment I stopped rushing ahead of Him, peace became my compass. Every door that closed before this one now makes sense.
God is already in your tomorrow. He knows the ending while you’re still questioning the middle. So before you decide, pause. Listen closely. God still speaks… quietly.
Have a decision to make?
Read His Word, it is a lamp unto your path (Psalm 119:105).
Pray, and don’t be afraid to ask for EVERYTHING. He promises to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). I’ve come to believe that when we pray, God doesn’t always give us what we ask for but what we need, which is far better.
Finally, pay attention to peace or to that uneasiness within. Peace often serves as divine confirmation, while unrest can be a gentle warning (1 Corinthians 14:33; Philippians 4:6–7).
Trust Him with the design of your next chapter. Let go of the timeline. Stay open to the unexpected.
That’s where new beginnings live.
Brigitte Foisy is the President of The PR Department Inc., one of Canada’s most awarded boutique marketing and communications firms, and Vice-President of Chefs Canada, a national organization supporting more than 4,000 of Canada’s top culinary professionals and leading the country’s national teams to the Bocuse d’Or, the world’s most prestigious culinary competition.
