There's no quick fix, trust me, I've asked.

You know that phrase, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all”?Yeah. That’s been the theme of 2025.

Let me break it down.

We rang in the New Year with my husband, Doug, slipping on ice on his way to work out. (The irony is not lost on me.) Two broken ribs later, he ended up in the hospital, not once, but twice, for ten days, needing two surgeries to remove over four liters of blood from his lung cavity.

A few months later, in July, I found myself unexpectedly unemployed. And let me tell you, trying to restart your career in your late 40s is not exactly a walk in the park. (More like walking on glass, into a brick wall, barefoot.)

And just when I thought things couldn’t get weirder, they did.

After a morning workout, I downed a new protein shake, because, you know, trying to be healthy, and promptly went into anaphylactic shock. Apparently, the brand uses deer antler velvet powder. Who knew that was a thing? Also, fun fact: I’m allergic to deer. And horses. And cats. And pretty much all things fluffy.

When I finally came to in the ER after shots of Benadryl and epinephrine, the doctor looked at me and said, “So, you tried to die today, huh?”

And that, friends, is just the first half of my year.

Doug almost dies. I’m without a job. I almost died. So yeah, trying to be healthy? Nearly killed us. (Kidding... kind of.)

Good times.

Now, here's the twist: I don’t believe in luck, good or bad. I believe in God.

Which makes this year even more confusing. Because if I follow God, and He’s good, then why does it feel like my life is being held together with duct tape and denial?

Seriously, God. I’m waving the white flag here. A little help?

One of my favorite verses has always been Jeremiah 29:11:“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

But context matters.

When that verse was written, the people of Judah were living in exile in Babylon. They’d lost their homes, their normalcy, their hope. False prophets were saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll be outta here soon!” But Jeremiah, God’s real mouthpiece, said, “Yeah… no. You’re gonna be here for 70 years. So plant gardens, build houses, and settle in.”

That verse wasn’t about a quick fix. It was about trusting God when nothing made sense.

And that’s where I am: in the waiting, and waiting sucks.

Because when you’re stuck, the good is hard to find. All you see is what’s broken. And you quietly wonder if God sees you at all.

I get why God’s people looked for a quicker, easier way out. I do too. I want this season to be over. I want the job, the healing, the resolution.

But I can’t shortcut what God’s doing. I can’t fast-forward through the refining.

I have to face the bitterness, anger, and resentment I’ve been stuffing down, because if I don’t deal with it, I might miss the very thing God is trying to do in me. And the one thing God keeps asking me to do? Trust Him.

Why? Because that’s what He’s been teaching us all along. To trust Him, even when nothing makes sense, even when you feel like your life is falling apart. And we see it all over the Bible, especially in the book of Job.

Job is basically the story of a really good guy who gets hit with the worst life has to offer: loss, grief, illness, all while doing nothing wrong. His friends try (and fail) to explain his suffering, and Job ends up having some brutally honest conversations with God. In the end, God doesn’t give Job neat answers, but He does show up. And sometimes, that’s enough. It’s messy, it’s raw, and it’s kind of comforting if you’ve ever felt like life kicked you for no reason.  Hello, me!

So like Job, I’m still going to God, spending time with Him, praying, and reading my Bible. I’m asking friends to pray for me (granted, unlike Job’s friends, mine don’t try to explain my suffering; they sit in it with me). And despite my life feeling like it’s falling apart, I’m still praying for them, too.

This is where faith gets real, not when life is easy, but when it’s messy, raw, and really hard.

So if you’re like me, stuck in the mess, barely holding it together, I get it. This season is brutal. But hear me: God is still with you. He hasn’t walked away. He loves you more than you can imagine, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. He’s not asking you to have it all figured out, just to trust Him, right here in the wreckage. And maybe, just maybe, that trust is where the real healing begins.