In the aftermath of my husband’s accident, I found myself caught in a storm of conflicting emotions: relief and resentment wrestling within me. Yes, I was grateful he emerged unscathed, but a bitter question lingered: Why weren’t we compensated for what we’d lost? I had convinced myself we were owed something. The other driver was at fault. Our vehicle was damaged. Surely justice demanded recompense.

When the lawyer explained there wasn’t sufficient bodily injury to pursue a claim, I felt cheated: robbed not just of money, but of vindication itself. In a moment of misplaced fury, I even resented that my husband had been wearing his seatbelt, as though his safety had somehow cost us our settlement.

But God, in His infinite wisdom and mercy, was orchestrating something far deeper than I could see.

Today, He opened my eyes to the truth I’d been too blind to recognize: We weren’t owed anything. We were spared everything.

God knew, long before that collision, before metal met metal, that we could not afford for my husband to be hurt. Not financially. Not mentally. Not emotionally. The cost of his injury would have been devastating in ways no insurance settlement could ever repair. So God protected what mattered most, even when I was too focused on lesser things to notice.

My anger, I now see, was pride wearing the mask of righteousness. I wanted compensation. God gave me my husband, whole and breathing. I wanted what I thought we deserved. God gave me what we truly needed.

He humbled me when I demanded justice, and that humbling made me angrier still, because deep down, I knew He was right.

Today, He showed me the gift I’d been too stubborn to unwrap: grace disguised as disappointment, mercy cloaked in financial loss.

Vehicles can be replaced. But the man I love? Irreplaceable. Priceless.

God wasn’t withholding blessing. He was the blessing, and I’d been too consumed with what we didn’t receive to thank Him for what I still had.

It took everything in me to admit this out loud. To say these words and actually mean them? That required grace I didn’t have on my own. God had to give me the strength to even choke it out.

And this is what He’s been doing with me. More and more, God is working on me. Polishing me. Refining me. And honestly? It’s not easy. It’s uncomfortable. It’s humbling in ways that sting. But I can feel Him shaping me, and I know it’s necessary.

My 2026 goal: to be so full of Jesus that people can’t help but notice. I want to radiate His joy, His peace, His light so clearly that when people see me, especially in the hard moments, they think,

“Wow. I want what she has.”

Not for any other reason than simply because Jesus is so evident in me that it’s undeniable.

I don’t want to just talk about faith. I want to live it in a way that draws people to Him. I want my life to be a testimony, not of my strength, but of His grace working through my weakness.

God is working on me. He’s been working on me. And instead of fighting it, I’m learning to surrender to the process.I’m letting Him do what He needs to do.

So here’s my challenge to you: Stop resisting the refining. Stop holding onto the anger, the bitterness, the sense that you’re owed something. Let God humble you. Let Him polish you. Let Him show you what really matters.

And then? Let His light shine through you so brightly that others can’t help but ask, “How do I get that?”

That’s when you’ll know the work He’s doing in you is spilling over into the world around you.

Thanks for reading!