Our Story

"Gissell, founder of Humble Reliance"

Humble Reliance didn’t begin with a business plan. It began with scattered notes on my phone. 

Back in 2018, after having my second son, I would jot down ideas for T-shirts, phrases, designs: little pieces of a company that didn’t exist yet. I felt like Michael Scott with his recording device, except mine lived in the Notes app. (“T-Shirt idea: goodbyes stink.” IYKYK)

I loved the idea of having a creative outlet, but I knew I didn’t want to make something gimmicky. I didn’t want to put Christian words on a shirt simply because I could. I didn’t want to build something so broad that in trying to speak to everyone, it didn’t really stand for anything.

If I was ever going to do this, it needed a purpose bigger than clothing.

So, the ideas stayed in my phone.

And life kept moving.

Our family grew. Two children became four and the days became very full, very quickly. The thought of starting an apparel company would surface every so often, but there always seemed to be a good reason to wait.

Until one day the desire to begin became stronger than the fear to fail.

So, I prayed about it. I shared the idea with my husband, and his encouragement gave me the confidence to finally start moving. I just didn’t have a name yet.

"Gissell and her husband Carlos."

An Ordinary Monday

One Monday morning, after an early workout, I decided to surprise my family with breakfast.

On the way to pick up empanadas, I saw a homeless man I had noticed around the neighborhood before. He was pushing a cart with a few belongings inside, and I felt this tug in my heart to buy him something to eat.

I ordered two extra empanadas, asked for them in a separate bag, and drove over to him.

I lowered the window.

“Good morning, sir. I thought you could use some breakfast.”

He looked at the bag.

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast! I got you a chicken and a beef empanada.”

Without missing a beat, he said:

“No thanks. I’m good.” And he walked away.

I was flabbergasted.

I pulled my hand back into the car, strangely embarrassed that I had apparently troubled this man with my breakfast selection. I drove away confused.

At the next light, I sat there thinking about what had just happened.

A homeless man just turned down food?

It felt like someone in the desert turning down water.

Who does that?

Without skipping a beat, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper:

You do.

The thought stayed with me.

How often does God give me His promises, and yet I struggle to take Him at His word because His provision doesn’t look exactly like what I expected?

How often do I say I trust Him while still reaching for my own understanding, my own plans, my own strength?

The light turned green.

I drove home.

And I let the thought simmer some more.

A Covenant of Peace

That same day, I found myself reading Isaiah 54.

One verse in particular jumped at me:

“For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you. (Isaiah 54:10)

My covenant of peace shall not be removed.

There was something so steady about those words.

Mountains can depart.

Hills can be removed.

The things around us that appear immovable can move.

Circumstances change. Plans change. Seasons change.

But the steadfast love of God remains.

And Then, Two Words

Not long after, our children were baptized.

As our pastor walked us through the questions of covenantal baptism, he spoke a phrase I had heard before, but this time it landed differently:

humble reliance.

I couldn’t shake those two words.

Suddenly, so much of what had been stirring in my heart seemed to have a name.

The man with the empanadas.

The covenant of peace.

The years of waiting.

The temptation to trust myself.

The reminder that the Christian life was never meant to be lived through sheer willpower or self-sufficiency.

Humble reliance.

These words describe the posture I want to return to again and again:

Not pride, but humility.

Not self-reliance, but dependence.

Not confidence in my ability to control what comes next, but confidence in the One who already holds it.

Our hope is not found in how tightly we can hold everything together.

Our hope is found only in Christ, and His mighty grip can be trusted.

Sometimes we need reminders we can carry with us. Sometimes we are sovereignly placed to serve as reminders to others. Whatever the case may be, we humbly rely on Christ.

I appreciate good quality. I love the way a garment wears over time, the way something thoughtfully made can become the piece I reach for again and again.

That is where Humble Reliance lives for me: somewhere between story and tactile art.

Every garment should stand on its own. It should be thoughtfully designed, carefully made, comfortable to live in, and something you genuinely want to wear.

But it should also carry something deeper.

A reminder.

When the season is difficult: rely on Christ.

When pride tells you that you should be able to handle everything yourself: rely on Christ.

When God’s provision doesn’t look exactly like what you expected: rely on Christ.

That is why every Humble Reliance collection will be built around a specific message of encouragement rooted in God’s word.

The collection may change.

The colors will change.

But the heart of the brand will remain the same.

Humble Reliance

To resist our natural posture of pride.

To rely on Christ rather than ourselves.

To remember that difficult seasons are not ultimate.

To trust that the mountains may depart and the hills may be removed, but the steadfast love of our God does not.

And to rest our hope in the finished and perfect work of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Our first collection begins exactly there.

Collection 001: Christ or Nothing.

Because He is not simply part of our hope.

He is our only hope.

And that is the reason Humble Reliance exists.

We don’t just make apparel.

We create reminders of eternal truth.