Letting God Handle What I Can't

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” - Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

Anxiety doesn’t always knock on the door. Sometimes it just barges in.

It shows up at 2 a.m. when your thoughts won’t stop racing. It sneaks into quiet moments when you’re trying to make a big decision. It whispers lies when your body doesn’t feel like your own or when life just isn’t making sense.

I know that feeling well.

Back in 2015, I ended up in the hospital after passing out and vomiting unexpectedly. I was scared, confused, and honestly, I had no clue what was happening to my body. My parents were just as shaken as I was. After tests and long hours, the doctor finally told us that I had experienced a ruptured ovarian cyst. It was painful, intense, and totally unexpected. What we didn’t know at the time was that this rupture was actually the result of an underlying condition I’d been living with unknowingly: Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS).

PCOS. A diagnosis I didn’t even know existed, now permanently part of my vocabulary.

That moment began a journey of learning how to trust God with something I couldn’t control. A journey that led me, slowly and often painfully, to Proverbs 3:5–6:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding..."

Because let’s be honest... my own understanding was not cutting it.

My understanding wanted to panic.

My understanding wanted answers immediately.

My understanding wanted to figure it all out, make a 5-year plan, and avoid pain at all costs.

But that’s not what trust looks like.

Trust means releasing the grip. Trust means saying, “God, I don’t get this. But I’m giving it to you anyway." It means believing that even when life feels like it’s twisting sideways, God is still making your path straight; even if it’s not straight by your definition.

And just when I thought I had learned how to do that, here I am years later, facing another crossroad... wondering if I should move back home. There are a lot of factors pulling me in that direction: being closer to family, having a support system, maybe even getting a fresh start (again). But at the same time, there are just as many reasons that seem to be calling me to stay in Charlotte: community, purpose, opportunities, and everything I’ve built here over the past few years. It’s a real tension... one that has me praying, second-guessing, and trying hard not to overthink.

It’s not a decision I’m taking lightly. It’s easy for anxiety to sneak back in, disguised as “just being thorough.” But I know the difference between seeking wisdom and spiraling into worry.. and I was starting to spiral.

Then, in the middle of one of those “What should I do?” kind of days, my roommate and I were texting about the possibility of renewing our lease. I told her I was feeling anxious; not just about the lease, but about my future in general. Life with PCOS sometimes makes everything feel uncertain, and lately I’ve been wrestling with what the next season is supposed to look like.

That’s when she replied with something so simple, yet so needed: Philippians 4:6-7.

And just like that, it clicked.

The verse God gave me back in 2015 when my body was breaking down…

The verse I clung to while trying to understand PCOS…

The verse that taught me how to breathe again when I didn’t even know what to pray…

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” - Philippians 4:6-7

That verse wasn’t just for the hospital. It’s for right now. It’s for big moves and confusing choices. It’s for the quiet moments when fear tries to speak louder than faith. It’s for every “what if” and “what now.”

It was like God used my roommate as a gentle reminder: You don’t have to carry this alone. You’ve never had to.

So today, I’m leaning in again. Not on my understanding, but on him. I’m praying about what’s next. I’m thanking him for what he’s already done. And I’m choosing peace, because it’s not just possible, it’s promised.

If you’ve ever felt like life threw something at you out of nowhere - whether a diagnosis, a decision, or just a season of unknowns... know this: God’s peace still applies.

Even when you don’t understand.

Even when you're tired.

Even when you’re texting roommates in the middle of the mess.

His word is still alive.

His peace is still guarding.

And his plans are still good.