New Blog Post What Does Trusting God Look Like in the Valley?
Over the past six months, I’ve found myself face-to-face with my third round of litigation. It’s expensive — financially, emotionally, spiritually. It’s deeply triggering. And it breaks my heart into a million pieces because of what it’s doing to my son.
In this valley, I’ve had to wrestle — again and again — with what it reallymeans to trust God.
So, I’ve done what any academic tends to do: I’ve studied. I’ve opened the Word, journaled definitions, and spent long, tearful mornings at the feet of Jesus, asking what trust is supposed to look like here — when things are this raw.
I’ve been camped out in Psalm 37 for most of this season. I’m not one of those people who flips from chapter to chapter with a well-organized reading plan and memorizes verses with ease. I’m more of a “find a spot and stay there” kind of soul. And Psalm 37 has been my home for Spring 2025.
Psalm 37 is a psalm of trust — and the promises it offers are long and powerful. A few that I’ve clung to:
He will give me the desires of my heart.
I will live in peace and prosperity.
Even in famine, I will have more than enough.
The justice of my cause will shine like the noonday sun.
I will never be abandoned.
I want all of these things — desperately. I need them to be real in my life. So I’ve been asking: what does trust actually look like? I can say I trust God. I can think about trusting Him. But I don’t want trust to be just a nice idea. I want it to live in my heart. I want it to be my first response, not something I claw my way back to after hours of spiraling through fear and lies.
I want trust to come more naturally than the impulse to fix everything myself — because my own attempts tend to make a mess of things.
After months of reflection, this is what I’ve written in my journal — my personal definition of trust:
Trusting God means having confidence that, in His goodness, faithfulness, and sovereignty, He sees my needs and will take care of me — even when life feels chaotic and upside down.
It means making an active choice to rely on Him in my heart, in my thoughts, and in how I act.
It means believing in His provision, His timing, and His care — even in the silence.
While I wait, I choose peace.
While I wait, I choose not to take matters into my own hands.
While I wait, I choose to trust Him instead of rushing ahead with my own plans.
This is my mountaintop definition of trust — the end goal. It’s what I’m striving for as I walk through the valley, hoping that all of this refining is building maturity and making my faith complete.
And what’s incredible is this: we can struggle and still be confident at the same time. We can be real and still be loved.
Right now, in this moment, I can say:
God knows my needs.
He will provide.
He is faithful.
He is good.
I am safe.
His timing is perfect.
He has a beautiful future for me.
And yet — I could receive a triggering email five minutes from now and feel like I’m unraveling again. Maybe for you, it’s not a legal battle. Maybe it’s a health crisis, a relationship, or financial stress. But the purpose behind these trials is the same: to produce something good and lasting in us. The outcome — if we’ll let God walk us through it — is wholeness.
So what do you do when trust feels far away?
There are a lot of helpful tools:
Reflect on how God has been faithful in your past.
Read the stories of God’s rescue throughout Scripture.
Speak His promises aloud until they land in your heart.
Look at His creation and be reminded of His character.
But the most powerful thing I’ve learned?
Trust God with your heart.
Some of you are thinking, “I did that years ago — when I was a kid, in college, when I first got saved.” I thought the same thing. And yes, I chose to follow Jesus years ago. But I didn’t trust Him with my heart — not fully.
Not the raw, messy, fearful parts.
Not the anger, the sadness, the doubt.
It took me years to move past the polished version of myself — the one who pretended everything was fine — and actually let God in. And even now, it’s a daily choice. It’s sitting down with my journal, letting it catch my tears, and inviting Jesus into the places I’d rather keep hidden.
Giving your heart to Jesus isn’t a one-time prayer. It’s a lifelong relationship. It’s letting Him meet you in your suffering before you jump into worship or declare victory. Because that’s trust in the valley — to offer Him the broken pieces first, not just the polished ones later.
And when you do, the beauty He can create out of that pain? It’s life-changing. The trial itself won’t be wasted. It’s shaping a future where you canrespond with confidence when the storm hits.
But that trust — that confidence — starts with surrender. It starts when we open our hands and release the thing we’ve been gripping most tightly. It starts when we trust Him with our suffering, and let Him show us His goodness there.
🌿 If you’re in a valley right now, you’re not alone. I’d love to walk alongside you and share what I’m learning in real time.
📖 Read more of my story here: Break Free, Heal, and Find Peace After Abuse
💛 Follow along @Silenced_NotBroken for hope-filled reminders, biblical truth, and raw honesty about healing after abuse.
And if this resonated with you, leave a comment or send me a message.
Let’s keep pointing each other back to the One who never leaves.
#SilencedNotBroken #HealingInTheValley #ChristianEncouragement #TrustGod #FaithAfterAbuse #HealingJourney #YouAreNotAlone
