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A Life of Purpose: Faith, Engineering, and the Quiet Work That Lasts

I was born in Kirbyville, Texas, in 1958, and raised in the small town of Buna—a place that grounded me in the values of family, faith, and responsibility. My father, Robert Hargrove, was a Korean War veteran and a man of quiet integrity. He spent 35 years at Dupont and taught me what it means to work hard and keep your word. My mother, Lavee Richbourg Hargrove, gave me a sense of belonging to something larger—both in faith and in heritage. Her family line traces back to early Texas settlers and the French Huguenots of the South.

I met Leisa, the love of my life, in high school. She was graceful, kind, and full of life. I was the quiet boy from a working-class family. But something clicked, and we started dating just before graduation in 1975. We married in 1980 during college, and that was the beginning of a lifelong partnership built on love, faith, and perseverance. Our son, Joshua Blake Hargrove, was born in 1984—a bright, compassionate young man whose life, though short, touched many. Losing him in 2002 changed everything. Grief rearranged my soul, but it also deepened my sense of calling.

My professional life began in earnest in 1978, when I took a student engineering position at Gulf States Utilities (GSU) while finishing my degree in electrical engineering at Lamar University. I earned my BSEE in 1981 and went on to spend 15 years with GSU, eventually leading telecommunications engineering for a multi-state electric utility network. My work supported SCADA, microwave, PBX, and protective relaying systems across more than 30 locations. It was formative, high-pressure, and rewarding—an environment that shaped how I see systems, risk, and people.

In 1993, I left GSU as the utility prepared for the Entergy merger. I joined Lockard & White in Houston for two years, managing major infrastructure projects. One of the most memorable was a 100-hop analog-to-digital microwave upgrade for Transcontinental Gas Pipeline. That experience reignited my entrepreneurial spirit. I wanted to serve clients directly and build something of my own.

In 1995, I founded New Signals Engineering Corporation. The early days were lean and intense—every project mattered, and I wore every hat. But the work was good, and God opened doors. In 1996, my former boss at GSU, Bob Pohl, hired my firm to design and implement a 100 Mbps fiber ring for the City of College Station. That project not only cemented my credibility—it changed the trajectory of my life. Bob introduced me to Sam Houston Electric Cooperative, and that single referral began a 25-year journey of trust, engineering, and service.

At Sam Houston EC and other East Texas co-ops, I designed SCADA communications, built microwave paths, engineered dispatch and tone relaying systems, and integrated critical infrastructure. I helped these utilities bridge from legacy systems into modern IP networks. Much of it was quiet work—done in rural counties, far from headlines—but it mattered. People depended on it.

From 1997 through 2014, I ran New Signals full time, serving electric cooperatives, municipalities, pipeline operators, and Fortune 500 clients. My work extended to public safety radio systems, oil and gas SCADA, offshore communications in Africa, and early cybersecurity practices. Whether it was a remote fire tower in the Big Thicket or an urban fiber buildout, I showed up with one aim: to serve well and solve the right problem.

In 2015, I joined Sam Houston Electric Cooperative as Engineer II. My largest project there was leading the design and deployment of a 72,000-meter Advanced Metering Infrastructure (AMI) system. The system required RF planning, cyber segmentation, and deep coordination across IT, SCADA, and operational leadership. I also re-architected the cooperative’s WAN into a Layer 3 structure, introducing OSPF and BGP protocols to support network resilience. I helped establish NERC CIP cyber compliance zones and built trusted systems for the grid of the future.

In 2019, I stepped into the role of Chief Technology Officer at East Texas Electric Cooperative. I provided strategic guidance for ten member co-ops and their G&T provider, leading projects that integrated 24/7 network monitoring, cybersecurity analytics, and OT/IT convergence. We addressed real-time threat detection, failover redundancy, and data visibility—modernizing how co-ops protect and manage grid operations in an increasingly complex world.

In 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I was approached by a group of former clients who needed help. With schools closed and remote work rising, rural families in Buna had no access to reliable broadband. They asked me to build a wireless internet service provider (WISP) from scratch. I accepted.

For the next two years, I worked over 3,900 hours of overtime—designing backhaul, erecting towers, integrating routers, and building a support and billing system from the ground up. By 2022, we had 725 customers and were generating $55,000 a month in revenue. But more than that, we were changing lives. Kids could attend school online. Families could work from home. Businesses could stay open. We turned crisis into connectivity, and it remains one of the projects I’m proudest of.

In 2023, I returned to Lockard & White as a Senior Telecommunications Engineer and took on the role of Chief Operating Officer at Evergreen Technology Solutions. At Evergreen, I lead our broadband buildout across Jasper and Newton counties. Our work includes VOIP integration, public safety radio, library infrastructure, and digital equity partnerships. We’re building not just networks—but bridges for rural communities to access opportunity.

Alongside all this, I’ve never stopped serving locally. I was President of the Buna Chamber of Commerce and co-founded Buna Regional Economic Development LLC. I serve on the board of the Buna Public Library and help guide it toward becoming a digital and cultural hub. I lead Bible studies, support Chrysalis and Emmaus ministries, and do what I can to serve the people and places God put in my path.

When I look back, what I see is not a career, but a calling. A life built on systems, yes—but more than that, a life built on faith, integrity, and quiet service. I’m still learning. Still building. Still showing up.

And that, for me, is enough.

Devotional Essay: “To Love Without Holding On” – A Reflection on Agape

Agape is not the kind of love we see most often in the world. It is not transactional. It does not demand to be noticed, rewarded, or returned. It is the kind of love that gives, and keeps giving—not because it gets something back, but because it is rooted in the very character of God.

Agape love says: I care about your well-being more than I care about my comfort.

It says: I will walk beside you, even if you cannot walk with me.

It whispers: You do not have to earn this. You are already worthy of it.

This is the kind of love that Jesus modeled. He loved the broken, the betrayers, the ones who didn’t understand Him, the ones who abandoned Him. And still, He loved. Without bitterness. Without demand.

There may come a time in your life when you love someone who cannot receive it. Someone whose wounds are so deep they mistake love for pressure, or care for control. Someone who pulls away, not because they don’t feel something, but because they feel too much—and it scares them.

In those moments, the temptation will be to retreat, to harden your heart, to convince yourself that the love was wasted. But agape never wastes itself. Love like this leaves something holy behind. It plants seeds that may never bloom in your sight, but God sees.

Agape is not weakness. It is strength held in restraint.

It is choosing someone’s peace over your longing.

It is blessing them from a distance.

It is still hoping the best for them, even when they’ve gone silent.

It is praying not for your reunion, but for their healing.

It is letting them go, and still loving them in Christ.

As Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 13:

“Love is patient, love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking…

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.”

That kind of love may break your heart. But it will never break your spirit—if it is grounded in Christ.

So love them. Pray for them. Honor them.

And if they cannot stay—let them go without bitterness.

Not because they weren’t worthy.

But because love like this doesn’t need to possess.

It just needs to be offered—gently, reverently, like a candle on the altar.

Reflection Questions:

Have you ever been called to love someone without expecting anything in return? What does “protecting someone’s peace” look like in your life? How does Jesus’ model of agape challenge your natural responses to rejection or silence? Is there someone you need to quietly bless and release into God’s hands?

Closing Prayer:

God of perfect love,

Teach me how to love without clinging,

To give without demanding,

To bless without controlling.

Let me hold others with reverence,

Even when I must let them go.

Shape my heart with Your kind of love—

The love that heals, the love that honors,

The love that does not fail.

Amen.

Sometimes when people talk about “hearing from God,” it can feel a little overwhelming—especially if you’re not sure what that’s supposed to sound like. In our Bible study, Finding God’s Will, Session 3 focuses on how we hear God not just by ourselves, but together—in community, through conversation, prayer, and trusted relationships. That’s actually something John Wesley cared a lot about too.

Wesley preached a sermon called The Nature of Enthusiasm back in the 1700s. And in that message, he warned people not to mistake their feelings or private ideas for God’s voice. Back then, “enthusiasm” didn’t mean excitement like it does today—it meant a kind of spiritual self-deception. People would say, “God told me this” or “I know this is from the Spirit,” when really it was just emotion or imagination. Wesley was concerned because that kind of thinking often led people away from the Bible, away from their church family, and even into harm.

What he taught is still true now: God can speak to our hearts, yes—but His voice is always consistent with Scripture, and it’s usually confirmed in community. That’s why we need each other. That’s why Christian friendships, prayer groups, and church life matter. They help us test what we’re feeling, slow down, and listen with wisdom.

The Global Methodist Church says something similar in its Book of Doctrines and Discipline. Worship, prayer, and study are things we do together, not just alone. And there’s a reason we meet, pray, talk, and study the Word in groups—it’s one of the main ways God leads us clearly, not just emotionally. One paragraph in the BODD says worship is a “divine encounter” that’s shaped by the whole church, not just personal preference. That’s how we stay grounded.

So if you’ve ever wondered, “Am I hearing God right?”—you’re not alone. That’s why we need community. You don’t have to figure it out all on your own. When we pray, read Scripture, and share together, God’s voice often becomes clearer—not louder, just more steady.

Let’s keep listening, together.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we talk about God’s will—like it’s some hidden map we have to solve. But what if it’s more like a daily walk with someone who loves us and wants us to trust Him?

Over the past few weeks at FMC Buna, we’ve been in a Bible study called Finding God’s Will, and it’s been unexpectedly rich. Not just answers—but real conversations. Real stories. A lot of grace.

Here’s what I’m learning (or relearning):

God’s will isn’t just about the big decisions.

It’s about trust when we don’t see the outcome.

It’s about community when we feel alone.

And sometimes… it’s just about showing up.

If you’ve ever wrestled with “What’s next?” or “What does God want from me?”—you’re not the only one. And you don’t have to figure it out alone.

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You Are Part of God’s Will for the Church

Too often we think of “God’s will” in private terms. My calling. My direction. My purpose. But Scripture paints a broader picture. God’s will is also about us—His people. His Church.

Ephesians 2:10 says we were created “for good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Those “works” aren’t just individual assignments. They’re part of a collective mission.

At FMC Buna, God’s will isn’t just for pastors or leaders. It’s for each person who walks through the doors.

You matter to what God is doing here.

You are not too late, too tired, too wounded, or too new to contribute.

The question isn’t, Does God have a will for the church?

It’s, Are you willing to be part of it?

Because the church doesn’t grow from programming—it grows from people like you saying,

“God, use me. However You want. Wherever You want.”

That’s how renewal begins.

When God’s Will Is Hard to Hear

We’ve all had moments where God feels silent. Prayers go unanswered. Decisions weigh heavy. The path forward looks foggy.

That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It might mean you’re being invited to trust deeper.

Isaiah 55:8 reminds us, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” That’s not meant to frustrate us. It’s meant to free us. God is not confused. Even when we are.

Sometimes His will is silence—because we need to stop striving.

Sometimes His will is waiting—because He’s preparing us.

Sometimes His will is community—because we’re not meant to figure it out alone.

If you’re in a season where God’s will feels hidden, you’re not lost. You’re being led—just more by presence than by answers.

Keep praying. Keep showing up. Keep surrendering.

His silence is not His absence.

Is God’s Will a Mystery—or a Relationship?

We often talk about “finding God’s will” like it’s buried treasure—something hidden, hard to find, and reserved for the spiritually elite. But what if God’s will isn’t a riddle to solve, but a relationship to walk in?

The Bible tells us, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is” (Romans 12:2). In other words, God’s will becomes clearer as we draw closer to Him.

God’s will isn’t just about big decisions—it’s about the posture of your heart. He’s less interested in which job you take or which town you live in, and more interested in whether you’re becoming the kind of person who loves, forgives, serves, and obeys.

So the real question is not just What should I do?

It’s Who am I becoming?

God’s will starts with that. And it grows from there.

A Modern Paraphrase of John Wesley’s Sermon

It’s easy to look religious—many people do. They go to church, pray, give to charity, and try to live moral lives. They don’t curse, lie, cheat, or harm others. They treat people with kindness, avoid gossip, and strive to be good citizens. And yet, something vital may be missing.

You can have all of that—morality, decency, even deep sincerity—and still fall short of true Christianity. That was me once. I preached, taught, and did good works. I thought I was a Christian. But I wasn’t altogether one. I had the form of godliness but lacked its power. I was close—almost there—but not truly transformed.

So what’s the difference between the almost Christian and the altogether Christian?

The almost Christian is respectable, honest, well-mannered, disciplined, and outwardly religious. They do the right things and avoid obvious sins. Their life looks good to others. They might even be admired by many. But deep inside, they lack the one thing that matters most: a heart wholly given to God.

The altogether Christian, however, is different. Their goodness doesn’t come from trying harder—it flows from love. First, love for God: with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength. This isn’t just affection—it’s surrender, passion, desire, awe. Second, love for others: not just being polite or fair, but truly seeking the well-being of others as you would your own. It’s a love that shows itself in every action, every decision, every moment.

This kind of Christian has real faith in Jesus Christ. Not just belief that He lived or died, but personal trust in His mercy and power. They know they can’t save themselves. They believe that through Jesus’ sacrifice, they are forgiven. And they live in that grace—full of joy, peace, humility, and hope.

Here’s the bottom line: Being “almost” a Christian is not enough. You can come right up to the threshold of salvation—and still miss it. My prayer is that no one who hears these words stays there.

Let’s not settle for being almost Christian. Let’s press on to full, real, burning, wholehearted faith. Let’s become altogether Christians.

Scripture: Hebrews 1:3 | Ephesians 6:16 | John 4:23

Today we reflect on the powerful witness of Tertullian, one of the earliest defenders of the Christian faith. Writing in the late 2nd and early 3rd century, Tertullian famously asked, “What does Athens have to do with Jerusalem?” — a challenge to the blending of secular philosophy with the pure gospel. Yet, his life and legacy give us more than polemics. They invite us into a deeper devotion to Christ crucified, risen, and reigning.

In Hebrews 1:3, we are reminded that Christ is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being.” Tertullian fiercely defended the reality of Christ’s divine nature and humanity, laying the groundwork for our Trinitarian understanding. He was the first to use the term Trinitas to describe the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three persons, one substance — a truth that remains a cornerstone of our doctrine.

Tertullian saw faith not as blind acceptance, but as a bold act of allegiance. In a culture that ridiculed belief and demanded conformity, he stood with clarity and courage. His writings remind us that truth must be lived, not just believed. That’s the kind of worship Jesus spoke of in John 4:23–24: worship in spirit and in truth.

Tertullian also called suffering Christians to put on the armor of faith. He described the Christian as a soldier of light, whose discipline was prayer, whose shield was faith, and whose weapon was the Word. His voice still echoes to us: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” From his time to ours, the Church has grown through lives laid down in love, not through power seized in pride.

As Wesley might affirm, faith without works is not saving faith. Tertullian’s boldness is a call to sanctified living — a life set apart, unwavering in truth and filled with holy love. It’s not enough to merely believe in Christ. We are called to become like Him, radiating His glory into the world, just as He reflects the Father’s.

Reflection Questions:

In what ways am I tempted to compromise truth for acceptance? Do I worship in both Spirit and truth — with passion and integrity? What would it mean today to “put on the shield of faith” in my community, workplace, or church?

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You are the exact image of the Father, full of glory and grace. Strengthen me, as You did Tertullian, to stand firm in truth and radiate Your light in a dark world. Let my life be a testimony of love that does not waver, and worship that is both sincere and bold. May I live not for comfort, but for Your kingdom. Amen.

If you’ve ever felt the world was too broken, the night too dark, or the divide between people too wide to cross—this message is for you.

I’ve lived long enough to know how easy it is to grow numb. To build fences around our hearts. To protect ourselves from the pain of trying when it feels like nothing changes. But I’ve also lived long enough to know this: one moment of surrender, one step of courage, one heart that kneels before God in humility… it can ripple out farther than we’ll ever see.

That’s what “City on Our Knees” is about.
It’s not a fantasy. It’s not a lyric to make you feel good.
It’s a call—to me, to you, to us all.

There comes a time, as the song says, “when we all must stand together.” But the strange paradox of God’s kingdom is that we stand by first kneeling.
We don’t fix the world by force.
We don’t bridge the gaps with pride.
We bend low. We confess. We pray. We weep with those who weep.
And in that posture—God moves.

Maybe you’ve got a past.
Maybe you’ve got pain.
Maybe the system, or the church, or even your own family let you down.
I’ve known those feelings too.
But none of that disqualifies you from this movement.
Because this night could be the start of something holy.
This moment could be where mercy meets momentum.

I’m not here to shout or impress. I’m here as a man who believes in what can happen when ordinary people—broken people, longing people—say to God: Use me. Heal this land. Begin with me.

You don’t have to have a platform.
You don’t need to have it all together.
You just need to show up on your knees—with your whole heart.

Tonight could be the night.
This town, this church, this home—your soul—could be the city on its knees.

Let’s stop waiting for someone else.
Let’s stop pretending we can’t make a difference.
Let’s kneel—and watch what God can do.

With hope,
John Hargrove
I still believe that CD revival begins in the quiet place where hearts are humbled and Heaven listens.