Here’s Part 2 from reader Bethany Theulen, shared with permission:

(Click here for Part 1 – Goals vs. Marriage)

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Disney. All of it—the songs, the stories, the romance. But what I love most is how often I find myself in the characters.

When Moana came out, I didn’t see it in theaters. At the time, I was knee-deep in a high-risk pregnancy, fresh out of the hospital after an emergency surgery, and just beginning my college journey… at 40 years old.

Later, when it finally hit Netflix, I mostly heard it secondhand as my kids played it over and over. At first, it was just the music that drew me in. But as time went on—and as the little girl I was carrying back then grew old enough to watch it with me—Moana became one of our favorites.

That season of my life was brutal. I spent so much energy being angry at God for letting me face relentless challenges day after day. And yet, that same season was full of miracles too—moments that gave me glimpses of why the struggles mattered.

Still, when the next storm hit, I rarely remembered those miracles. I slipped right back into anger.

I’ll never forget one afternoon when Rylee and I were snuggled up together actually watching Moana—not multitasking, not distracted, just watching. On screen, Moana was adrift and exhausted. She knew her calling, she knew she was meant to cross the ocean to save her family and her people… but she didn’t know how.

Frustrated, she lost her way. In trying to fix it herself, she overturned her raft, clung desperately to the wreckage, and cried out for help. She begged the ocean for guidance.

And the ocean answered—but not how she wanted.

Instead of help, a violent storm threw her under the waves, battered her, and nearly drowned her. When it was finally over, she crawled onto the sand of a tiny, deserted island. She was alive, but furious. She screamed at the ocean she had trusted, furious that her plea for help had led to such a storm.

And then… she turned around.

The “random” island the storm had carried her to? It just happened to be the one where Maui had been trapped for centuries—the exact place she needed to be.

Her prayer had been answered—not as expected, but exactly as required.

That’s me. I know my purpose. I know what the Lord asks of me. But too often, like Moana, I get mad when His answer to my plea for help is a storm. I feel beaten, broken, and confused. Yet when the skies clear, I realize the storm didn’t knock me off course at all—it reset me onto the right one.

I pride myself on my ability to plan. I set goals, make lists, and map out every detail. But I resist letting God revise my plans. Instead of leaning into the storm with trust, I fight it. I dig my heels in. I get angry. I spiral into darkness, forgetting He sees what I can’t.

And then, every time, I eventually turn around and find proof that I’ve been placed exactly where I needed to be all along.

That’s where I am now. I don’t know if I’m still in the middle of the storm or if I’ve already washed up on my island. Either way, today it doesn’t matter.

Whether the waves are still tossing me or I’ve landed exactly where I’m meant to be, I choose to move forward with intention—letting the ocean, my Father in Heaven, lead me to the comfort and peace I’ve been seeking.

(By Bethany Theulen, shared with permission.)