A few years back, when Kevin was going through his health struggles and we’d lost both his parents, I felt completely untethered. Like I was floating in space with no compass, no map, no sense of direction. The devotionals I’d always turned to felt hollow. The prayers I’d prayed for years seemed to bounce off the ceiling.
But it was Kevin’s grandmother, Maria, who taught me something profound about finding purpose in the darkest seasons. Maria lived through World War II in Ukraine. She lost two of her children during the war – just gone, in the chaos and horror of those years. Everything she’d built her life around was stripped away.
Yet somehow, in that unimaginable loss, Maria discovered that God’s purpose for her life wasn’t destroyed – it was transformed. She spent the rest of her years caring for orphaned children, becoming a mother to dozens who had lost everything, just like she had.
Here’s what I’ve learned from Maria’s story and my own seasons of feeling lost: God’s purpose for your life doesn’t disappear when everything falls apart. It gets refined, deepened, and often redirected in ways you never saw coming.
Finding God’s Heart in Scripture During Dark Seasons
I’m going to be honest with you. I used to be a little… skeptical about the Book of Jeremiah. You know, it always felt a little heavy, like the Old Testament version of a rainy Monday. I wasn’t running to it for my morning devotional, that’s for sure.
But then, one morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table. Mia, my little Shichon, was doing that weird little huffing thing she does, and I was just staring at my coffee. I felt stuck. Not broken, just… stuck in a so-so situation.
I picked up my Bible, and instead of flipping straight to Psalms like I usually do—looking for that quick, easy comfort verse, that spiritual band-aid—I just opened it. I was searching for God’s heart when this whole world just makes absolutely no sense. I was like, “Okay, Jeremiah, let’s see what you’ve got.”
And I found myself right there in that book. One verse spoke to me. I mean, it spoke. It was like the Lord was right there in my Pennsylvania kitchen, pouring me a cup of coffee and saying, “Mark it down.”
Jeremiah 29:11 became my anchor: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” But here’s what I discovered – God’s plans aren’t canceled by our current circumstances. They’re often revealed through them.
The Hebrew word for “plans” here is “machashavah” – it means thoughts, intentions, purposes. God’s purposes for you aren’t sitting on a shelf waiting for your life to get easier. They’re being worked out right now, in the mess, in the uncertainty, in the 2 AM kitchen moments.
Romans 8:28 used to frustrate me: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good.” I’d think, “Really? Kevin’s health scare is good? Losing his parents is good?” But that’s not what Paul is saying. He’s saying God redeems everything – even the hardest, most senseless losses – and weaves them into something meaningful.
Maria understood this. She didn’t see her children’s deaths as good. But she watched God take that devastating loss and transform it into a calling to love other broken children. Her purpose wasn’t destroyed by tragedy – it was birthed from it.
Proverbs 3:5-6 became my daily prayer: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” When I couldn’t understand what God was doing, I had to trust that he was still working.
The phrase “make straight your paths” doesn’t mean God removes all obstacles. It means he directs your steps toward his purposes, even when the path looks crooked from your perspective.
Isaiah 55:8-9 humbled me: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways.” God’s purposes operate on a different timeline, with different priorities than mine.
During Kevin’s hardest days, I kept asking God, “What’s the purpose in this suffering?” The answer didn’t come in a lightning bolt moment. It came slowly, as I watched Kevin’s pain deepen his compassion for others going through health struggles. As I saw our marriage grow stronger through dependence on God instead of our own strength.
Maria used to tell Kevin that she learned to see God’s purposes not despite her losses, but because of them. The war that took her children also opened her heart to children who desperately needed a mother. Her greatest pain became her greatest calling.
That’s how God works. He doesn’t waste our suffering – he transforms it into something that serves his kingdom and brings hope to others walking similar paths.
Living with Purpose When Everything Feels Uncertain
So how do you actually live with purpose when you can’t see three feet in front of you? When God’s plan feels like a foreign language you’ve never learned to speak?
I had to learn this the hard way, one small step at a time.
First, I started each morning with what I call a surrender prayer. Not a fancy, eloquent prayer – just me, still in my pajamas, telling God, “I don’t know what today holds, but you do. I’m trusting you to guide my steps.” Some mornings I meant it. Some mornings I was just going through the motions. But I kept showing up.
That simple practice changed everything. It reminded me daily that my purpose isn’t something I have to figure out and execute perfectly. It’s something God reveals as I walk in obedience to what I already know.
Second, I started journaling God’s faithfulness. Not the big, dramatic moments – though those matter too – but the small evidences of his presence. The friend who texted at exactly the right moment. The unexpected check that covered an urgent bill. Kevin feeling strong enough to take a walk on a particularly hard day.
When you’re feeling lost, it’s easy to focus on what’s missing, what’s broken, what doesn’t make sense. But when you train your eyes to see God’s small mercies, you start recognizing his purposes at work even in the uncertainty.
Third, I discovered that purpose often shows up when I’m serving others in simple ways. During Kevin’s recovery, I started bringing meals to other families dealing with health crises. Nothing elaborate – sometimes just a casserole and a prayer. But in those moments of caring for others, I felt most connected to God’s heart.
Purpose isn’t always a grand calling. Sometimes it’s making dinner for a neighbor who’s overwhelmed. Sometimes it’s listening to a friend who’s struggling. Sometimes it’s just being present with someone who feels as lost as you do.
Our family also developed new faith practices during that season. We started reading Scripture together at breakfast, even when it was rushed. We began praying specifically for other families we knew were hurting. These weren’t perfect, Instagram-worthy family devotions. They were real, sometimes messy attempts to keep God at the center when everything else felt chaotic.
But here’s what surprised me most: I learned to embrace seasons of waiting. Kevin’s grandmother Maria taught me this through her stories. She said the hardest part of the war wasn’t just the immediate losses – it was the months and years of not knowing what came next, of rebuilding life piece by piece.
She learned that sometimes God’s purpose is simply teaching us to trust him in the unknown. Sometimes the purpose of a difficult season is developing patience, deepening faith, growing in compassion for others who are also waiting.
Last year, when my own mother needed more care, I initially felt frustrated. This wasn’t in my plans. But as I spent time helping her with daily tasks, listening to her stories, I realized God was giving me something precious – deeper connection with her while I still could.
Purpose found me in the caregiving I didn’t choose.
God’s purpose for your life isn’t lost in your uncertainty – it’s being refined through it. Your 2 AM kitchen moments aren’t evidence of a purposeless life; they’re invitations to trust God’s bigger plan.
Here’s your challenge: for the next seven days, start each morning asking God to show you one small way to serve someone else that day. Watch how purpose emerges when you focus outward instead of inward.