From Tears to Hope: Finding Joy After a Life-Changing Loss

Scripture: Psalm 30:5
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

There are verses you read for years before they suddenly read you. Psalm 30:5 became that verse for me—the one that slipped into the cracks of my life when everything felt hollow and said, “Stay. Morning is coming.” I didn’t know when. I didn’t know how. But I held on.

The Story: When Loss Becomes the First Step to Purpose

In my 30s, I had a hysterectomy. It was one of those moments nobody prepares you for, emotionally or spiritually. My body was healing, but my spirit wasn’t. Depression settled in quietly and then fiercely. It chipped away at my confidence, my sense of identity, my sense of womanhood. I didn’t feel strong, purposeful, or chosen. I felt broken.

But God works in plot twists.

During that season, I started mentoring a teen named Jessica. She had dyslexia and felt misunderstood, overlooked, and “not enough.” What she didn’t know was that I felt the very same way. Our sessions became a two-way mentorship: she needed academic guidance, and I needed a reason to get out of bed with purpose.

I’d show her how to break down words and build them back up again. She’d look at me and say things like, “You should be a teacher.” At first, I brushed it off. But she kept planting seeds. She didn’t know God was using her voice to call me into my future.

One day after Bible study, I finally said it out loud: “Maybe… maybe I’m meant to teach.” Saying it cracked something open. I stepped into volunteering as the 4th-grade coordinator at church. I was terrified, but I was also alive again.

Around that time, I picked up The Purpose-Driven Life. Page by page, something inside me shifted. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel the weight of what I had lost. I felt the pull toward what I was meant to gain.

And so began the journey:

From church coordinator to classroom teacher
From math teacher to special educator
From special educator to academic therapist
From academic therapist to living out my calling in full—supporting neurodivergent students, coaching families, and helping people rediscover what God planted inside them

My “night” season could have swallowed me. But God didn’t just give me joy in the morning. He gave me clarity, calling, and a community. What felt like the end of my story became the beginning of my purpose.

The Song: “Through the Wire” – Kanye West

There’s something about a good hip-hop beat that mirrors the heartbeat of a testimony. “Through the Wire” is one of those songs. Kanye recorded it with his jaw wired shut after a near-fatal accident, literally spitting bars through pain.

That song is raw perseverance. It’s a declaration: “I’m not done yet. God’s still writing.”

When I think back to my darkest season: crying in the bathroom, staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering who I was now, that was my “Through the Wire” moment. I felt spiritually wired shut. Every word I tried to speak felt heavy, muffled, broken.

But the beat still dropped.

God didn’t wait for me to be healed, confident, or put together. He stepped into the mess, the loss, and the doubt. He surrounded me with the voices I needed: Jessica’s encouragement, my church community, the quiet whisper from Scripture that told me to hold on a little longer.

Hip-hop teaches us something Scripture reinforces:
There is power in surviving the verse before the chorus.
There is victory in choosing to show up again.
There is purpose in the pain we didn’t choose.

My breakdown wasn’t the end. It was the setup for the beat drop of my life.

Call to Reflection

What’s your “Through the Wire” moment?
The night season you thought would never end?
The place where God whispered, “This is not how your story ends.”

Hit reply and tell me:
Where have you seen God turn breakdown into a breakthrough?

Your story might just become someone else’s morning.