second chances: how a Gregory Alan Isakov song led me to my husband

In November 2022, deep in the throes of online dating and feeling hopelessly bummed that I was 30 and still hadn’t found my person, I matched with a man on a dating app. To my friends, I nicknamed him “Tesla Guy” because he drove a Tesla, and at the time, I didn’t know a single person who had one.

We chatted for a handful of days, weaving our conversations between the busyness of our careers and daily lives, until he asked me on a date—a proper date—to a nice steakhouse downtown the day after Thanksgiving. He told me to dress up, saying it’d be fun to get fancy. Naturally, having worked from home for the last five years (hello, athleisure + business casual), and my dating life being abysmal at best, I didn’t have anything "black tie" enough for this occasion.

So, the day before Thanksgiving, I scrambled. Dress after dress, store after store, until I found a black lace one that I thought would do the trick. Check. And with my outfit locked in, I let myself get excited. How many guys actually move from the talking stage to a real date this quickly? How many want to do dinner instead of coffee or mini golf? How many own a suit?!

And then—much to my chagrin and par for my dating course—twenty minutes after I’d finished Thanksgiving dinner with my family, he canceled our date.

He said he’d been thinking about it and realized he wasn’t in the right place to pursue me and didn’t want to lead me on. I was thankful for his honesty, but did it really have to be on Thanksgiving? Sigh. The good ones never pan out. I texted my friends and told my parents: Well, he bailed. But at least he didn’t ghost me? Feeling sad and a tad jaded, I deleted his number, unmatched him, and assumed I’d never hear from him again. And honestly? I didn’t really want to.

You see, my dating history had a pattern of guys dropping out of the picture for various reasons—be it for someone else, to go to school to learn to cast out demons (yes, really), to move away, or because we’d hit some kind of moral or spiritual impasse. That, or they’d just ghost me altogether. But always, without exception, they'd come back. So I’d set a hard rule early on in order to preserve my time and my heart: If they don’t see my value the first time, they don’t get another shot.

February 15, 2023

Valentine’s Day had come and gone. I didn’t have a valentine, but I loved the holiday anyway. It was 2 AM. I was living alone and had a bad dream. Every little creak of the wind kept me awake. I scrolled my phone for a bit, then forced myself to put it down. Sleep, or work tomorrow will be miserable.

Just as I was dozing off, my phone buzzed.

I rolled over, checking to see if it was my boss—he was traveling internationally, and midnight logistical fires to put out weren’t uncommon. But it wasn’t my boss.

It was him. Tesla guy.

He was reaching out again—this time, in an admittedly better place. He’d been attending a Christian Entreprenerial Mastermind Group, where he opened up about wanting a partner with his group of older (and married) peers. Encouraged, he listed out the qualities he was looking for and later began praying fervently. And somewhere in that process, he thought of me.

Annoyed—first that I was woken up just as I’d dozed off, second that he was reaching back out after cancelling on me months prior—I read his message, tossed my phone aside, and turned on some music to try and fall back asleep.

But I couldn’t sleep.

I laid there, mind racing. I had thought about him twice since Thanksgiving—once when I wore that black lace dress to see The Nutcracker with friends, and again when I pulled up at a stoplight next to the same blue Tesla he had. I wonder how he’s doing.

I reached for my phone again, rereading his message, searching for subtext. They always come back, but why is he? Just then, Gregory Alan Isakov’s Second Chances started playing:

🎶 If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone. 🎶

I froze. The song played on:

I'm running from nothing, no thoughts in my mind
Oh, my heart was all black
But I saw something shine
Thought that part was yours, but it might just be mine
I could share it with you, if you gave me the time
I'm all bloody knuckles, longing for home
If it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone

I sat with that. His message was kind, apologetic, intentional. He was 33. Maybe dating in our 30s was different and he meant what he said? I didn’t want to be in the business of second chances. He had hurt my feelings. I’d felt not good enough. I had to tell my friends—after all that excitement—that he had canceled.

But had he done anything wrong? No.
Would I have wanted him to take me to dinner just to realize over steak that he wasn’t ready or was going to lead me on? No.
Hadn’t I, just recently, written out a list of what I wanted in a partner and boldly asked God for a husband instead of assuming He already knew my heart’s desire? Yes.

Did I want to reply? 

Yes.

Could this second chance be the best decision of my life?

Possibly.

3:51 AM: Hey Taylor! Ah, thanks for reaching out and for the kind note—it’s really good to hear from you…

Epilogue

It's Saturday morning, on February 15th, 2025. Judging by the fact that he is fast asleep next to me as I type this—our French bulldog Lyla nestled sweetly between us—it turns out it was the best second chance choice of my life to date. That second chance turned into a second date (where I knew I was going to marry him), which has turned into 2 years of being together. Thanks be to God for being in the business of second chances and teaching us to do the same. 

It’s crazy and wonderful how life goes. Sometimes, what feels like a setback is really just a setup for something better. The timing isn’t off—it’s just aligning. The plan isn’t falling apart—it’s falling into place. Like that quote says, ‘Sometimes what didn’t work out for you, worked out for you.’

And for you, my reader, every time you’ve gotten back on the bicycle, forgave someone, forgave yourself, repented, tried something new and tried again—you, too, have been in the business of second chances. May we all be the kind of people who let our lives be turned over and flipped around because we trust in God’s timing, we extend grace, and we offer an open hand to someone that's asking for yours.

Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s a dream you put on hold. Maybe it’s something you never thought you’d try again. Whatever it is, don’t be afraid to take a second look. You never know… it might just lead to the best choice of your life, too.

Happy Day of the Second Chance, my love! I’m so grateful you reached out again that day and for every moment of grace you’ve shown me as your wife. And thank you, Gregory Alan Isakov, for the lyric that unexpectedly made me pause and encouraged me to give my husband (still can’t believe I have a husband) a second chance.

Here’s to embracing second chances and all the beautiful moments yet to come. ✨

p.s. listen below if you want to hear Second Chances.