I met Gerard when I was 19 years old.

After a long courtship, we finally got married and after four years of marriage, we welcomed our baby girl into the world.

With a stable career, a loving husband by my side and a new beginning for our family, my future seemed bright. It was everything that I had hoped for.

Serena and her husband at their wedding shoot.

It was then that the shocking news came: Gerard had incurable end-stage sarcoma.

The doctor’s estimate: He only had three months to live.

It felt like a nightmare. My thoughts spiralled. Three months was a death sentence.

What could one do with three months? There was hardly enough time for my baby girl to grow, let alone for an adult like myself to adjust to the idea of losing both a loving husband and the father of my child.

But by the grace of God, Gerard’s three-month “death sentence” stretched into three years.

Eventually, however, the day still came when I found myself widowed. The pain of losing someone whom I had known throughout my adult life took a toll on me.

An unimaginable wave of grief and loss weighed me down for the whole year. Every day began as a struggle and left me crying on my knees. Desperate to hold onto anything that reminded me of Gerard, I fell into a period of obsessive hoarding.

Pieces of glass from cups that he had accidentally broken, clothes – my home became a cluttered chaos that reflected my distraught state. Yet my pain and heartache worsened.

A divine encounter 

Anger was an understatement for how I felt towards God.

Gerard and I had accepted Christ while he was battling cancer and I had believed in God for complete healing, right up till the very last moment when Gerard lay on the ICU bed.

How could God not have intervened?

Eventually, things reached a breaking point. In an agony of anger and heartache, I scoured the Internet, searching for ways to end my life.

But all the articles that I found pointed me to the realisation that ending my life would mean sinning against God.

“Since you don’t allow me to take my life, what do I do now, God?” I screamed, infuriated with God as I fell into an exhausted sleep. I had not known then that God is especially close to the brokenhearted (Psalms 34:18). 

In a dream that night, I watched numbly as a woman committed suicide, plunging to her death right in front of my eyes. As the dream continued, I entered a lift where a man stood at the door. As He turned to me, I noticed an intensity and warmth in His gaze that drew me in and gave me a strong sense of assurance. My eyes landed on a cross on the left pocket of the man’s shirt.

I knew immediately that the person in the lift was God.

When I woke up, I was overwhelmed by the “fear of the Lord” (Proverbs 1:7) – an awe and reverence I did not have before. I realised that God had seen all my suicidal thoughts.

I thought to myself: If He is a God who can intervene in a situation like this, maybe I can trust Him.

My comforter

Some time later, when I was attending Tung Ling Bible School, I was sharing with God about my sadness and anger towards Him over Gerard’s death.

As I was bowed in prayer, I sensed the words: “Come, sit with me … I’m sorry it has to be this way … I will be with you till eternity, come, dance with me, my child.”

“At that point, I found God’s invitation to dance with Him strange,” Serena said of her dream.

Why would God ask me to dance with Him? What could He mean?

My grief and struggle in accepting Gerard’s death made it physically impossible to feel joy, let alone dance. 

But not long afterwards, a full-time ministry worker told me: “Serena, I saw a vision of God dancing with you.”

The ministry worker shared that he had seen a father figure taking me by the hand to the centre of a ballroom. God was leading me into a dance, spinning me around eight times. With every turn, my countenance was transformed into greater joy.

I could hardly believe my ears. I had not shared my dream with anyone, yet someone else had received a vision and confirmation of God’s message for me. 

As I stood reflecting on it all, I began to tremble in my “fear of the Lord”. God is real.

This personal encounter was a turning point in my relationship with God. 

After graduating from Bible School, I happened to attend a flag banner workshop organised by a classmate.

The workshop was an introduction on using flag banners and movement to worship God.

In an instant, the pieces fit into place. 

I purchased my own banner flags and gave banner worship a whirl. 

After the session, God gave me another dream. In that dream, I saw a purple figure dancing gracefully, churning up a cloud of purple dust.

As I watched, a surge of strength welled up inside me. I felt refreshed, recovered and in awe of God’s greatness.

I knew God had led me into dance as a way to relieve the burdens on my heart and experience His love and presence.

He is with you always

Isaiah 54:5-8 says: “But your Maker is your husband. The Lord Almighty is his name – the Holy One of Israel.”

Even though in earthly terms I am a widow, through new spiritual eyes, I am far more than just a widow.

With the Lord’s reassurance of His presence, I am now a bride of Christ. He has provided me with His comfort, turning “my mourning into joyful dancing” as He has promised in Psalms 30:11.

God promises so often in the Bible that He is with us, but because we remain on this side of earth, it is hard to see His hand when bad things happen.

However, through His grace, if we encounter God, we will experience this personally: “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty” (Psalms 91:1).

Over the course of my journey with Christ, I have begun to understand how the Maker’s hand truly makes no mistakes.

As for me, I continue to heal and place my hope in Him, for in His pierced palms lie the guarantee of my salvation, no matter what life may bring.

In whatever troubles you face today, may you rest assured that He is the God who turns mourning into dancing.

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