Learning to trust God in the middle of the storm
“For everything there is a season… a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” — Ecclesiastes 3:4
There have been many storms in my life—some overwhelming. It was in those seasons I learned that life is not about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about learning to dance in the rain.
That didn’t come naturally. The storms in my early life gave me little reason to imagine dancing. But over time, I learned that only through trusting God’s promises in the middle of trials is it possible to find peace—even joy—before the storm ends.
And often, that required that word we all struggle with: wait.
It was in the waiting that my faith grew the most.
My Good Shepherd was my shelter during the storm.
The Storm That Changed Everything
The most devastating day of my life was June 13, 1966.
Nine months earlier, I made a life-altering mistake and found myself pregnant and unmarried—something no young woman of that time wanted to face. To escape the shame of being pregnant and unmarried, I chose to flee to an unwed mother’s home, where I stayed six months and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.
On June 13th, I was given one hour to hold her… and say goodbye.
Forever.
I returned home carrying a grief I could not share. No one knew. I hid behind a mask, building walls to keep others from seeing the pain.
There was no dancing then—only a steady downpour of sorrow.
But slowly… my faith began to grow.
Learning to Trust in the Rain
Faith doesn’t always make sense in the middle of loss—especially when the pain comes from our own choices.
God doesn’t promise we will avoid the storm—but He does promise to be with us in it.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…” — Isaiah 43:2
I began to hold onto that truth.
As I experienced God’s forgiveness, I also experienced peace. I believed my baby was safe and loved—and that God would heal my heart.
And for the first time… I began to hear faint music in the distance.
Storms That Followed
A few months after giving up my daughter, I met a man, and four months later we were married. Two years later, our daughter was born.
My husband enlisted in the Air Force, and in 1974 he was deployed to Thailand for a year. About six months into his tour, he came home at Christmas for a 30-day leave. A few weeks after he returned to Thailand, I discovered I was pregnant.
When his tour ended, we were transferred to George Air Force Base in Victorville, California—more than 2,000 miles away from family and anyone I knew. For the first time, I found myself in the middle of a storm with no familiar place to turn—only my Good Shepherd. We had only been there a few days—still waiting for housing—when he told me he planned to divorce me after the baby was born.
He planned to leave me to marry a prostitute he had been living with while in Thailand.
I was devastated.
My first thought was, “This is the worst thing I have ever gone through.”
But then I remembered… it wasn’t.
The worst had been giving away my baby.
And I had survived that.
So somehow, I knew I would survive this too.
And with that realization, I became determined to use the four months before the baby was due to find a way to pick up the fractured pieces and restore my marriage.
And I heard faint music in the background.
It felt like I was caught in a storm with no place to stand.
There seemed to be no music this time… and certainly no dancing.
So I cried out to God.
And once again, He met me there.
He gave me peace—something I couldn’t explain. I realized I still had time to try to save my marriage.
In the middle of fear and unanswered questions…
I began to experience something unexpected—
Joy.
During those months, even with dark clouds and tornado-like winds swirling around me, God brought new friends into my life who loved and supported me. In the midst of that storm, the music played—and God gave me joy.
And for the first time in a storm like this…
I was learning to dance in the rain.
After our son was born, my husband decided to stay—and there was great joy. But by the following summer, new storm clouds began to gather.
When the Music Faded… and Returned
When those storm clouds finally broke, my husband told me he didn’t love me and wanted a divorce.
While those words were painful to hear, something inside me had changed. I felt a strange release. I knew I had done everything I could, yet I had come to a difficult realization: you can’t cook enough, clean enough, or meet every need to make someone love you.
At least I could walk away knowing I had done all I could do.
Still, my self-esteem was at an all-time low. Giving away my first baby had already left me with a lack of confidence, and during my marriage I often felt I couldn’t do anything right.
Now, with a failed marriage behind me, I felt like a total failure.
For a time, the music faded.
The rain returned.
Crying out to God in my confusion and pain, I could only cling to my belief that He would help me through this storm.
And then, in the distance… I began to hear the faint sound of music again.
The dancing was not over.
Finding Strength in the Waiting
On Thanksgiving Day, the children and I left California and moved back home.
This was a new and frightening chapter—full of uncertainty. Clinging to my faith, although daunting, this new storm was not as frightening—even in the swirling winds and rain, God had already begun putting the pieces of my life back together.
And He was writing a new symphony—one I would begin to hear by the middle of the year.
Little by little, He began restoring what had been broken in me.
I began to see things I had never seen before. I discovered I could write poetry. I fulfilled a lifelong dream of painting portraits. Opportunities began to open in ways I never could have planned.
Slowly, something else returned—my confidence.
I began to realize I wasn’t a failure.
I wasn’t incapable.
God was showing me who I truly was.
Raising two children alone was not easy. There were financial struggles and many uncertain moments. More than once, I wondered how we were going to make it.
Sometimes the answers to prayer came quickly. Other times, they came at the very last moment.
But in every season, I discovered something I had never fully understood before:
Even while I was still waiting… God gave peace.
And in that peace, I found the strength to keep going.
And somehow, even then… I learned to dance.
From Mourning to Dancing
For 32 years, even in the midst of answered prayers and meaningful moments, I carried a quiet, lingering grief for the daughter I gave away.
Then on June 13, 1998—32 years later—everything changed.
I found my daughter.
After being told I would never see her again, God restored what had been lost. We were reunited, and a beautiful relationship began.
My family was finally complete.
And this time…
I wasn’t dancing in the rain.
I was dancing to one of God’s beautiful symphonies—one He had been writing all along.
Gentle Invitation
If you are in a storm right now—waiting, hurting, or wondering if things will ever change—
you are not alone.
God has not forgotten you.
Even in the waiting… He is working.
And one day, you may look back and realize—
He was there all along, teaching you how to dance.
Closing Blessing
May you find peace in the middle of your storm.
May you feel the presence of your Good Shepherd, even when the path is unclear.
And may you begin to hear His quiet music—
growing stronger with each step—
until one day, you find yourself dancing.
Continue the Journey
If this story resonated with you, much of my journey is shared more deeply in my book, He Ordered My Steps—From Shattered Dreams to Something Beautiful.
It’s a story of brokenness, faith, and the unexpected ways God brings healing and restoration.