You’ve tried it all—saying the right words, praying the right prayers, reading the right Bible verses—and still, nothing seems to be working. You’re tired of trying. What else can you do when your faith doesn’t seem to be “working” anymore? Ashley Morgan Jackson is no stranger to this kind of spiritual exhaustion. Through a long season of enduring mental health struggles  and many hard circumstances, Ashley wrestled with God and the disappointment she felt with Him. Through it all she found that choosing to wrestle isn’t easy or quick—but it does have purpose. Now it is Ashley’s mission to share with others that when we hold on to God through our hardest seasons, we can walk away blessed, maybe not with all we want but with more of Jesus. It’s a grace to welcome Ashley to the farm’s front porch today…

Guest Post by Ashley Morgan Jackson

Anxiety filled my chest on that snowy day in Colorado. I took a deep breath and let out a familiar sigh, but I also felt a small stirring of hope. I was daring to believe that today would be different. It was January 1, and that meant new beginnings and leaving the old behind. 

Life had been so hard and far from perfect, but it seemed to have eased up a bit.

Like every year, I had written out my goals and had chosen one word to focus on. This year it was listen, and I was guardedly excited to see what focusing on that word might reveal to me in the months ahead. I was also determined that this was the year I was going to get in shape, though I sighed at the thought of that too.

If I were honest, it had been the year to get in shape and lose weight every year because I never really got around to doing it.

But I brushed off my doubts and embraced my determination.

Knowing we had no plans for the day, I decided to start the New Year off right with a workout.

Standing in my messy bedroom, I pressed play on the DVD and began working out, feeling so proud of myself for starting off on the right foot. However, when I stepped backward into a lunge, my foot landed on my son’s baby blanket, and I slipped. I fell to the floor and was immediately in excruciating pain. When I looked down at my leg, I saw that my kneecap was dislocated, stuck on the outside of my leg. I screamed in pain.

My husband, Daniel, ran into the room, his eyes wide in panic. 

“Call 911!” I yelled.

Sometimes the most honest prayers we can pray during painful wrestling seasons sound like, “This hurts. I’m tired. Please help.” 

I knew this was bad—really bad.

Daniel made the call, and the paramedics came a few moments later, rushing me to the hospital. I was deeply regretting this workout, not to mention the fact that I was wearing the least presentable pajamas I owned.

It was humiliating as well as painful.

What a start to a new year. I wanted to crumble. 

The next day, I hobbled my way around on crutches with my leg in a brace. I precariously pushed my baby from place to place on a rolling office chair until my parents arrived to help me for the day. After my parents left that evening and Daniel had returned home, I was finally in bed relaxing and decided to write a prayer about how helpless and hopeless I felt: 

Dear Lord, 

I do not understand what is happening, and I am afraid. I can no longer handle this; I feel like I am drowning! Please be for me what I need, do for our family what only you can do. All that I have to give you is a broken heart that does not know where to go from here. You say you are my strength; please be that for me today. 

In Jesus’ name, amen.

I closed my journal and rolled over to get myself out of bed when I suddenly felt a “pop.” A surge of horror rose from the bottom of my gut and out of my mouth, “No, no, no, no!”

My knee was out of its socket again.

I immediately cried out to the Lord for a miracle. Please, Lord, not again. I can’t go through all of this, calling 911, being carried down the stairs in agony, being wheeled into the hospital again. We can’t afford this. Why, Lord? Why?

Each prayer you pray, each tear you shed, each decision you make to hold on by faith when you just want to give up is a precious offering to the Lord. Keep holding on to Him.

Daniel ran into the room and looked as shocked and horrified as I was at what he saw. We both felt paralyzed, and we were waiting, hoping, crying out to the Lord to put my kneecap back where it belonged. But when no miracle intervention materialized, we went through the whole process again.

My word this year is listen, Lord. Well, I’m listening. What, Lord? What? I cannot do this anymore. I do not understand. I give up.

In my spirit, I felt Him ask, “Will you trust me, even when I say no again?”

A knowing came over me.

I was going to have to walk through this hard season I didn’t understand and didn’t want—and I had a choice to make. Would I choose to walk through it with Him or without Him?

I realized I needed a way to hold on and let go at the same time. I needed to hold on to the Lord and to the hope of what He had yet to do but to let go of how I wanted it all to play out. 

Are you in a season that feels hurtful, hard, and heavy?

Sometimes the most honest prayers we can pray during painful wrestling seasons sound like, “This hurts. I’m tired. Please help.” 

When we are struggling, we must choose to enter into the pain with God rather than trying to manage it on our own terms

And God is not indifferent to our tears; He sees and remembers each one. The promise of Scripture is that God has not forgotten us. 

The psalmist affirms God’s attention and tenderness when we are struggling:

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
PSALM 56:8,  nlt

When we are struggling, we must choose to enter into the pain with God rather than trying to manage it on our own terms by running away, shutting down, getting angry, or denying the reality of what we’re facing. And those options will always be a temptation when we are just so very tired of trying. 

There’s no doubt that surrender can be scary, and the moment we start taking a step toward it, our minds will begin to doubt and spiral with fears, especially about the ways we have been disappointed in the past.

But holding on to God and letting go of outcomes is an essential part of every wrestle.

Each prayer you pray, each tear you shed, each decision you make to hold on by faith when you just want to give up is a precious offering to the Lord.

Keep holding on to Him.

[ Our humble thanks to Tyndale Momentum for their partnership in today’s devotional. ]