By Lydia Jentzen Will

A few weeks ago, my husband lost his job. I knew the moment he walked in the door that something was wrong, evident by how he avoided my eyes and absently patted the kids when they came up to greet him. He was distraught. Broken. Terrified and sick with worry. I hardly knew how to respond.

A few weeks ago, my husband lost his job.

After a few days of being the calm, supportive one, it was my turn. My turn to panic. My turn to cry. My turn to lay paralyzed in bed with anxiety. My turn to wonder what on earth God was thinking.

Why is he punishing my hard-working husband, my little family who’s just doing the best we can? We do our best to follow His leading from our family size to our finances, and now this? He gave us six babies. Why on earth would He allow this? I went from frightened and sad to downright angry.

I threw myself into being a support and encouragement to my husband. As a man, husband, father, provider – his self worth had been severely shaken and he was plummeting deep into a dark place. I did my best to encourage and reassure him while managing my own disappointments and fear and shielding our kids from the stress that plagued their parents.

I struggled to hold it all – the fear, the responsibility, the dread that was coursing through our family. I thought maybe if I just worked harder, prayed harder, pushed more – that I’d be able to get us through.

I thought maybe if I just worked harder, prayed harder, pushed more – that I’d be able to get us through.

Sitting in church on Sunday, listening to Pastor Matt preach, I realized – I’m not the center of this. This does not revolve around me, nor is it my responsibility to hold it all. Our successes or failures does not hinge solely on my ability to save us. I’m not the Savior in this story.

Each day gets a little bit better. As my husband works to find something new, I see the hope returning. The past few weeks have seen us supported and loved in ways that we would never have dreamed. From various job leads to my best friend just letting me give voice to all my fears and holding me in her understanding – we’ve experienced an outpouring of grace unlike anything we’ve ever known.

I’m not the Savior in this story.

When we allow Him to comfort us through the people He has placed in our lives, we can know the peace of His presence. The answer to our prayers is not always the solution that we were looking for, but God’s promise to never leave us or forsake us holds strong. And although sometimes He can feel so very far away, we see Him in the generous acts of love of those around us.

We hand the reins firmly over to Him – trusting implicitly in His unfailing love for us. This is His story, after all. We don’t know what the future holds, but we know Who holds it. Who is all goodness and mercy and loving kindness, who gently leads those with young. We can’t see the endgame, but we know it’s going to be all good, because He.is.all.good.

We don’t know what the future holds, but we know Who holds it.

This morning, I lay out his interview clothes. I start the coffee and make breakfast. My job is small things with great love – letting go of the rest. I find peace when I put our lives, our hopes, and our trust securely into His hands.