Coram Deo: Living Before the Face of God

By: Dave Gagnon, Professional Driver

Coram Deo—a Latin phrase meaning “before the face of God”—captures a profound Christian truth: every moment of our lives is lived in God’s presence. Nothing is hidden. Nothing is outside His sight. That truth has followed me from my teenage years into my life as a professional driver.

It was the fall of 1988. I was fourteen years old and attending a small Christian high school in the Chicago suburbs. My freshman class had fewer than twenty students. I wasn’t especially gifted athletically, but I enjoyed playing soccer, and that year our team qualified for a Christian schools tournament near Pekin, Illinois.

I remember the closing moments of one particular game with painful clarity. The score was tied. There were less than two minutes left. The opposing team lined up for a corner kick—one of the most dangerous plays in soccer, taken right in front of the defending goal. I was playing fullback, and the ball was kicked high, arcing straight toward me.

I had options. I could have chest-trapped the ball, let it drop, and made a safe play. In hindsight, that would have been the wise choice. Instead, I lifted my knee. The ball struck it, bounced backward over my head, and sailed toward our goal. Surely the goalie would make the save. He didn’t.

The ball went over his head and into our own net.

Game over. Tournament over.

I was crushed. I don’t like making mistakes, and this one cost the team the game. For months, I replayed that moment in my head, wishing I could go back and choose differently. Eventually, the sting faded, and I learned something important. I never made that mistake again. I became far more careful with the ball near my own goal.

But the reality remained: I couldn’t undo the moment. I could learn from it—but I couldn’t change it.

As I prepared to write this month’s Purpose Driven article, my mind drifted back not only to that soccer game, but to other moments in life where I had “blown it.” And it occurred to me that while we can’t always undo our mistakes, we can affect what follows them.

That truth became very real again during my trucking career—much more recently.

It was the spring of 2025, just days before vacation. I was headed home to spend time with my wife and then visit our son in the Little Rock area. A camping retreat with family!  Hometime fever was in full force. I was also participating in a steps challenge, determined to help our team of drivers beat the office folks back at home base in Hudson. (If you can’t tell, I’m competitive.)

I found a great area near the customer with sidewalks, parked the truck where the Link app indicated was acceptable, and set out for a long walk. Perfect setup: nice weather, good music, walking shoes, and motivation. I logged just over four miles and returned exhausted—but satisfied. I pulled the curtains and crawled into bed, already thinking about tomorrow’s drive home and trip with the camper in tow.

Then came the knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My first thought was, Please don’t be the police. I got dressed and opened the door to find another driver—a fellow employee owner—clearly upset. He told me I had parked my bobtail too close and boxed him in.

Once again, life handed me a choice.

I could have listened. I could have tried to understand his perspective. Instead, tired and irritated, I responded harshly. I argued. I spoke unkindly. I justified myself in the moment and went back to bed thinking the situation was over.

It wasn’t.

I slept poorly that night. The Holy Spirit gave me no peace. I knew I had damaged my Christian testimony. Over the next day, I called several friends and admitted it plainly: I had been a jerk. Living Coram Deo means we don’t get to compartmentalize our faith—even when we’re tired, stressed, or on the eve of vacation.

The problem was, I didn’t know who the driver was. No name. No truck number. I assumed that would be the end of it—another failure I’d have to carry.

Then, during a Nussbaum driver virtual Bible study, we were discussing times when we had hurt our witness and how God works even through our failures. I shared the story in detail—because, for whatever reason, my mistakes tend to stay vivid in my memory.

When I finished, another driver spoke up.

“Dave, that story sounds really familiar. I think I’ve heard it—from the other side.”

What are the odds?

Suddenly, I had no excuse not to pursue reconciliation. Through that connection, phone numbers were exchanged, and a few days later I was speaking directly with the driver I had treated so poorly.

I didn’t make excuses. I didn’t defend myself. I simply apologized.

We talked for a while, and I learned something else—I wasn’t the only one having a bad day. That’s often the case, isn’t it? We rarely know what burdens others are carrying when our paths cross.

Living Coram Deo means remembering that every interaction—every conversation, every response—is lived before God’s face. And when we fail, God does not leave us without hope.

Scripture reminds us:

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

1 John1:9 (ESV)

We may not always be able to undo our mistakes—but by God’s grace, we can confess them, learn from them, and, when possible, make things right. That, too, is part of living before the face of God.