Finding Purpose in Life’s Valleys
“He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.”
— Psalm 23:3 (NIV)
Recently, I read about a shepherd in northern Wales who immersed his sheep in antiseptic vats to protect them from deadly parasites. The sheep fought him in terror, unable to understand that what felt like harm was actually protection.
I knew exactly how they felt.
There have been seasons in my life when I stood in valleys I never would have chosen.
Fleeing to an unwed mother’s home in 1966 and making the agonizing decision to relinquish my firstborn daughter to adoption was excruciating. My dreams, as I had imagined them, ended in that moment.
Years later, my ten-year marriage fell apart, leaving me to raise two children alone and feeling like a complete failure.
Then, after achieving a career I had worked so hard for and experiencing great success, it suddenly ended when the owner ran out of money.
There seemed to be a pattern—
working hard… reaching meaningful goals…
only to face closed doors.
Relationships shattered. Dreams unraveled.
From where I stood, it felt like everything was falling apart.
And I asked God the question we so often ask in the valley:
How could any of this possibly be good?
At the time, I could not see what He was protecting me from.
I could not see where other paths might have led.
All I could see was loss.
But the Shepherd sees what we cannot. Eventually, He lifted me to higher and allowed me to look back.
From that vantage point, the valley began to make sense.
He knew long before I did that I would one day be legally blind. And in His mercy, He had already begun ordering my steps—leading me back to college and then to graduate school.
What felt like disruption was actually direction. It led me into the most fulfilling work of my life—becoming a college history professor, something I never would have imagined for myself.
What I once called disappointment was protection.
What felt like loss had been rescue.
And then—one of the deepest wounds of my life—giving away my baby to strangers was beautifully healed. On the 32nd anniversary of the day I relinquished her, God brought us back together again.
There were moments when I believed I would not survive those seasons.
Yet looking back, I can see this clearly:
I was never walking alone. When my strength failed, He carried me.
Psalm 23 became more than familiar words:
“Even though I walk through the valley… You are with me.”
We are not promised a life without valleys.
But we are promised His presence in them.
And Psalm 37:23 reminds us:
“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.”
Even when I could not see it—
my steps were being ordered.
From the mountain, the valley looks different.
The pain is still real—
but it is no longer pointless.
The disappointments no longer define me—
they reveal His faithfulness.
The Shepherd never lost sight of me.
And I am learning this truth: What I once questioned, I now trust.
Things look different from the Shepherd’s point of view.
A Gentle Invitation
If you are walking through a valley that does not yet make sense, take heart. The Shepherd is still leading. One day, He may gently draw you higher and allow you to see what He was protecting you from all along.
If this reflection resonates with you, I share more of that journey in my memoir, He Ordered My Steps – From Shattered Dreams to Something Beautiful. It is the story of learning to trust God’s guidance—even when I could not yet see the mountain.
You can learn more here:
http://heorderedmysteps.com.
A Closing Prayer
Good Shepherd,
When I cannot understand the valley, help me trust Your heart.
When the path feels uncertain, remind me that You are leading me through.
Thank You for carrying me when I could not walk
and for ordering my steps with wisdom beyond my own.
Teach me to trust You
until I can one day see the valley from above.
Amen.
Bottom of Form