Small Acts, Steady Steps, and the Road Ahead

A Quiet Beginning

Some of the most important moments in life don’t come with fanfare. They come quietly—through the kindness of others, through unexpected encouragement, through the grace of being seen.

Back in May, I attended the Kickin’ Blue Dinner—my first time ever at a political party function. I wasn’t a candidate yet. I didn’t know if I would become one. I walked in with questions, not certainty—wondering whether someone like me had a place in public life, someone who believes leadership begins with listening and service, not status or spotlight.

A Seat at the Table

That’s when a man I’d never met noticed me standing alone. Without hesitation, he invited me to sit at his table. He introduced me to those around him like I already belonged. There was no agenda, no performance—just sincerity. Just someone living what he believed by making space for someone else.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me. In that moment, I didn’t feel like a stranger—I felt like I had something to contribute. That kindness helped me believe I might have a voice worth offering, even in rooms where I wasn’t sure I belonged.

Since then, I’ve done my best to pay that kindness forward. Whenever I’ve been invited to help with events—especially those focused on registering voters and strengthening civic participation—I’ve shown up. Because that’s how I first found my footing: through a simple act of welcome I’ve never forgotten.

Prayers for Something Greater

Later, as a declared candidate, I found myself under a canopy tent at a local community event with that same man—now a friend and supporter. We were there to register voters, meet neighbors, and be present in the heart of our community. While I stood there still new to the campaign trail, I also stood more resolved than ever to walk it with purpose.

As we were set up, a small volunteer team from a local church approached us. They weren’t campaigning or seeking attention—they were simply offering box lunches to anyone who needed one and asking a simple, powerful question: “Can we pray for you?”

I introduced myself, let them know I was running for State Senate, and said—half-joking, but fully honest—that I felt like I needed a prayer every day, but especially now. Then I looked at them and asked if they would pray not that I would win, but that I would serve something greater than myself.

They bowed their heads and prayed with warmth and sincerity—a prayer that filled me with peace, courage, and a quiet clarity. When they finished, I felt compelled to express my gratitude more personally. I asked the woman who led the prayer if I might give her a hug to thank her for those powerful words. She welcomed it without hesitation, and that simple act of kindness stayed with me long after we parted.

Afterward, they handed both of us a box lunch with a smile. We gladly accepted their generosity. I don’t mention the church by name, and I want to be clear that their kindness should not be interpreted as an endorsement by any individual or their congregation. Their prayer wasn’t about politics—it was a simple act of compassion. It reminded me that the calling isn’t to chase victory, but to walk faithfully.

Hope in the Journey

Their encouragement, like that man’s invitation at the Kickin’ Blue Dinner, was a quiet blessing that gave me hope. Hope that there are still people who live their values, not for applause, but because it’s simply who they are. And that those values—faith, kindness, service—still have a place in public life, even when the headlines say otherwise.

I don’t know what lies ahead. But I know why I’m in this race: not to claim a title, but to answer a call. I trust that whatever comes next—whether it’s an election win or a new door I can’t yet see—God is already there.

A Commitment to Serve

Just as others extended kindness and dignity to me in those early moments, I am beholden to my God to do the same for others—to see and treat every person I encounter as an image bearer of Him. That is both a spiritual conviction and a civic responsibility. Whether someone shares my faith or not, I believe every person deserves to be treated with dignity, kindness, and respect. I owe it to my state and my country to lead with that belief at the center: that every individual carries inherent worth, regardless of where they come from, how they vote, or what they believe.

To the man who welcomed me at that table, to the faithful team who prayed for me at that event, and to all who have shown grace and encouragement along the way—you have my deepest thanks. What you did will never be lost on me, and I carry your kindness with me as a guiding light.

I run with gratitude. I serve with hope. And I commit to honoring the image of God in everyone I meet, every step of the way.

With respect for all Arkansans,

Joshua Irby

Paid for by Joshua Irby