I woke up this morning with two words in my head: Trust Jesus.

It’s been a bit of a year, health-wise.

Having spent much of the year trying to recover from a Crohn’s flare, I was finally beginning to feel a little more human. Still exhausted, but definitely heading in the right direction. That was until the doctor discovered that I probably have an underactive thyroid and helpfully remarked, “No wonder you feel ill!”

So, while waiting for the next steps with that, I was beginning to look forward to getting back to something resembling normal life.

And then Thursday happened.

I woke up with a temperature of 38.5, a rather unpleasant cough and what appears to be the seasonal flu. Just for good measure, my body also decided to produce a rather painful boil or abscess on my leg.

Marvellous.

So here I am on Saturday morning, still with a temperature of 38.5, surrounded by tissues, with a fan blowing in my direction, wondering quite what my body thinks it’s playing at.

I had plans for this weekend. Things I was genuinely looking forward to. Things I wanted to be part of. And instead, I’m sitting on the sofa, coughing and spluttering, feeling rather sorry for myself.

Last night, I prayed that God might miraculously heal me overnight. After all, he can. And wouldn’t it be wonderful to wake up feeling completely better and able to do everything I’d planned?

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, I woke up coughing, still feeling thoroughly rotten, but with those two words going round my head.

Trust Jesus.

And I’ve been thinking about that this morning.

It’s easy to talk about trusting Jesus when things are going well. When our plans are working out, when doors are opening, when we’re feeling strong and capable, and when life is doing roughly what we’d like it to do.

But what about when it isn’t?

When our bodies let us down. When opportunities pass us by. When we’ve said we’ll be somewhere, promised to do something, or committed to being part of something important, and then find ourselves unable to follow through.

When we worry that we’ve disappointed people, or that others might misunderstand our absence. When we desperately want to be reliable, capable and present, but circumstances beyond our control mean that we simply can’t be.

And perhaps that’s one of the hardest things about trust.

It’s not just trusting Jesus with the things that happen to us. It’s trusting him with the things we can’t do, the opportunities we might miss, the expectations we can’t meet and even what other people might think of us.

Because trusting Jesus doesn’t mean that everything will work out the way I want it to. It doesn’t mean that every prayer will be answered in the way I hope, or that every disappointment will suddenly disappear.

It means trusting that he is still good, still present and still faithful, even when life isn’t going to plan.

It means remembering that my worth isn’t measured by how much I achieve, how many things I attend, or how capable I appear to other people.

And it means accepting that sometimes I simply cannot control what happens next.

I don’t find that particularly easy. I like having plans. I like doing things. I like being useful. And, if I’m completely honest, I don’t particularly like feeling vulnerable or dependent on other people.

But perhaps that’s precisely why those two words matter so much to me this morning.

Trust Jesus.

Not because I understand why things happen as they do. Not because I know that everything will turn out the way I hope. And certainly not because trusting him guarantees that I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling better.

But because my circumstances don’t change who he is.

I don’t know what today holds for you. Perhaps everything is going brilliantly. Or perhaps, like me, your body has decided to go a bit bananas. Maybe there’s something you’re disappointed about, an opportunity you’ve missed, a commitment you can’t fulfil, or a situation that’s completely beyond your control.

Perhaps you’re worrying about letting someone down, or wondering what others might think.

Whatever it is, perhaps those same two words are worth holding on to.

Trust Jesus.

Not because everything will suddenly be fixed.

But because, even when everything feels a little bit pooey, he is still worthy of our trust.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my tissues, my fan and my sofa.