The Day God Spoke Through Turquoise: A Midlife Story of Restoration and Reassurance

The summer before my middle child, Cameron, left for college was one of the hardest of my life.

He was struggling. I was single parenting. And to keep things afloat, I was counseling 40 clients a week—while walking through a brutal divorce that had left me emotionally raw and hanging by a thread.

Cameron had always been passionate and strong-willed, and that summer, his rebellious spirit clashed with my worn-down patience. To make things even more chaotic, he had just gotten a new puppy—Theo. Untrained and full of energy.

Most of my counseling clients still came to my home office in person back then, and one particular morning, I asked Cameron several times to get Theo out of the crate before my 9 AM session. He didn’t budge. I was already running on empty, and I snapped.

I marched upstairs, and what followed was a full-on screaming match.
I’m not proud of it.

Afterward, I retreated to my bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and cried. And I remember the prayer I whispered through angry, exhausted tears:
“God, who is going to teach my boys how to treat women?”

I wiped my eyes, put on a fake smile, and greeted my client at the door like nothing had happened. She had just come back from a solo retreat I had encouraged her to take—a time to rest and spend time with Jesus.

She sat down and smiled.
“I feel like God gave me a verse. Can I share it with you?”
“Of course,” I said, masking the storm I’d just come through.

She began to read from Isaiah 54. And then she stopped.
“Lisa—I think this is for you.”

“Afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted,
I will rebuild you with stones of turquoise,
your foundations with lapis lazuli.
I will make your battlements of rubies,
your gates of sparkling jewels,
and all your walls of precious stones.
All your children will be taught by the Lord,
and great will be their peace.” (Isaiah 54:11–13)

The tears came fast.
Because there was a backstory.

A few weeks earlier, my oldest son, Kendall, had offered to help me redo my bathroom. I remember standing in that space—surrounded by tile samples and paint chips—and realizing…I didn’t know what I liked.

After years of saying “yes” to keep the peace—after slowly fading into the background of my own life—I had lost touch with my voice, my preferences, even my style.
I didn’t know much, but I said, “I think I like the color turquoise.”

Kendall gave me a look. In his very Kendall way, he declared there would be no turquoise in his design plan. I didn’t push. I was used to being shut down.

But a few days later, he came back to me with a change of heart.
He said he’d been thinking—and remembering the mom he used to know.

“You used to wear bright colors,” he said.
“Turquoise was your favorite.”

He told me he’d find a way to include turquoise accents in the bathroom—and then he encouraged me to start bringing color back into my wardrobe… and into my life.

So when my client read those verses from Isaiah—turquoise, lapis lazuli, rubies—I knew they weren’t just stones. They were signposts. God was speaking in color.

I felt like that “afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted.”
But in that moment, I knew: God was answering my cry.

He was promising not only to rebuild me… but to teach my kids.
Kendall—Turquoise.
Cameron—Lapis Lazuli.
Caroline—Ruby.

And He promised that great would be their peace.

Now, I wish I could tell you that everything changed overnight.
That Cameron and I never fought again and that our relationship magically healed.

But healing takes time.
It took space. Boundaries. Apologies. And a lot of therapy (thousands of dollars’ worth, if we’re being honest).

And six years later—I can tell you this:
My kids have peace.

They’re walking their own journeys, and while none of them look exactly how I imagined, I believe with everything in me that God kept His promise.

Maybe you’re in a hard season right now.
Maybe you're the one standing in the bathroom, unsure of what you like anymore.
Or sitting on the edge of the bed, wondering how it all got so heavy.

Can I gently encourage you?

Look for a promise. Ask for a reminder.

For me, it came through scripture—through turquoise and tears and a whisper I needed to hear.
For you, it might come in a different way.

✨ A phrase in a book
✨ A lyric from a song
✨ A quiet moment in nature
✨ A memory that rises unexpectedly

Whatever form it takes, I believe that when we ask, we receive.
Ask for a promise that will carry you through the days that feel too hard.
And when it comes—cling to it.

One day, I’m going to have a ring made with those three stones.
But until then, I wear the promise in my heart.

He rebuilds.
He restores.
And great is their peace.

Want to keep going?

If you're a midlife mom navigating parenting, identity shifts, and everything in between—here are a few next steps that might be just right for you:

👉 Take the “Which '80s Sitcom Mom Are You?” Quiz
It’s fun, fast, and surprisingly insightful. You’ll learn more about your unique parenting style—and maybe have a good laugh too.

🎓 Ready to go deeper?
My Launching With Love Mini Course was created from everything I’ve learned (and am still learning!) about raising young adult kids with compassion and clarity. It’s short and practical.

💗 Craving support and community?
Come join the Midlife With Purpose Facebook Group—a free, encouraging space for women like you to connect, share, and grow.

No pressure. Just a few ways to keep moving forward—one small step at a time.