Why You Keep Trying to Fix It Instead of Trusting God (The Faith You Say You Have vs. The Faith You Actually Live)

I need to tell you something I'm not proud of.

For most of my life, I've been a relationship expert. I've spent 30 years helping people transform their marriages. I've written books. Led seminars. Done hundreds of marriage intensives with a high success rate.

I taught people how to trust God with their relationships.

But when it came to my own? I didn't actually trust Him.

Oh, I said I did. I prayed about it constantly. I could quote all the right verses about faith and trust and God's faithfulness.

But my actions told a different story.

I trusted God with a lot of things. When I got meningitis and nearly died? I trusted God. When I fell off a cliff and survived? I trusted God. Financial struggles? Health scares? Ministry challenges? I genuinely believed God would come through.

But there was one fear—one scenario that absolutely paralyzed me—where my faith completely collapsed.

If my wife ever left me, I showed zero faith in surviving.

Not just surviving emotionally. I couldn't even imagine continuing to exist. That possibility was so terrifying that I spent years doing everything in my power to prevent it from happening.

And I called that "working on my marriage."

But really? I was just trying to control the outcome because I didn't actually trust God with it.

The Faith I Said I Had

If you'd asked me about my faith back then, I would have told you all the right things:

"I believe God is sovereign." "I know God works all things together for good." "I trust that God's plan is better than mine." "I believe nothing can separate us from the love of God."

And I believed those things were true... in theory.

I could preach them. Teach them. Counsel others with them.

But I didn't actually live like they were true.

Because when crisis hit—when the thing I feared most was actually happening—I didn't turn to God in trust.

I turned to control.

I tried to fix it. Manage it. Strategize my way out of it. Do everything humanly possible to prevent the worst-case scenario.

And I exhausted myself in the process.

The Faith I Actually Lived

Here's what my functional faith—the faith I actually operated from—looked like:

"God, I trust You... as long as You do what I think You should do."

"God, I surrender this to You... but let me just try a few more things first."

"God, Your will be done... as long as Your will matches my plan."

That's not faith. That's negotiation.

Real faith trusts God even when His plan looks nothing like yours. Real faith surrenders the outcome without conditions. Real faith does what God says even when it feels impossible.

I had theological faith. I believed God COULD save my marriage.

But I didn't have practical faith. I didn't trust God WOULD be faithful if my marriage ended.

And that's the gap that revealed my faith wasn't real—it was just religious talk.

Why We Try to Fix Instead of Trust

Looking back, I can see exactly why I defaulted to control instead of trust:

Reason #1: We Believe God CAN, But We Don't Trust God WILL

This is the fatal flaw in most Christian's faith.

We have no problem believing in God's power. We believe He created the universe, raised Jesus from the dead, and can do anything.

But we don't trust Him to actually come through for US. For THIS situation. Right now.

We believe He CAN save our marriage... but we're not sure He WILL. We believe He CAN provide... but what if He doesn't? We believe He CAN heal... but we better have a backup plan.

So we hedge our bets. We pray, but we also manipulate. We surrender, but we also strategize.

We want to trust God... we're just not willing to risk what happens if He doesn't do what we think He should do.

Reason #2: We're Terrified of the Pain

Here's the brutal truth I had to face:

I wasn't trying to save my marriage because I had such great faith. I was trying to save my marriage because I was absolutely terrified of the pain if it ended.

I didn't trust that God would be enough if I lost what mattered most to me.

And so I did everything I could to avoid finding out if that was true.

I pursued. I explained. I defended. I promised. I managed.

Not because I was loving my wife well. But because I was medicating my terror through control.

That's not faith. That's fear disguised as effort.

Reason #3: We Think Trusting God Means Doing Nothing

This one kept me stuck for years.

I thought trusting God meant passively waiting for Him to fix everything while I did nothing.

So I reasoned: "Well, I can't just do nothing! I need to fight for my marriage! God helps those who help themselves!" (Which isn't even in the Bible, by the way.)

But that's a false dichotomy.

Trusting God doesn't mean passivity. It means obedience.

It means doing what HE says instead of what you think will work.

And often, what He says feels completely counterintuitive to what you think will save the situation.

Reason #4: We Use Spiritual Language to Disguise Control

This is the sneakiest one.

We say we're "trusting God" while simultaneously:

• Seeking advice from 47 different people hoping someone will tell us what we want to hear
• Making elaborate plans and then asking God to bless them (instead of seeking His plan)
• Praying for God to change the other person while refusing to change ourselves
• Using "spiritual warfare" language to justify our manipulation
• Saying "I'm waiting on God" when we're really just scared to do what He's already told us to do

We pray like it depends on God, but we act like it depends entirely on us.

And we wonder why we're exhausted.

Reason #5: Our Faith Has Never Actually Been Tested

Here's what I've discovered:

Most Christians have never had their faith truly tested. Not really.

We've had challenges, sure. But we've managed to navigate them through our own effort, wisdom, and resources.

And we call that "God providing."

But real faith isn't tested until you face something you CANNOT fix. Something where all your effort, wisdom, and resources are utterly useless.

That's when you find out if your faith is real or just religious decoration.

And if we're honest? Most of us realize in that moment that we don't actually have much faith at all.

What Happened When I Stopped Fixing

The thing I feared most—the nightmare scenario I'd spent years trying to prevent—happened anyway.

My marriage ended. After 28 years.

And in that moment, I discovered something both devastating and freeing:

All my efforts to control it hadn't worked. All my trying to fix it had accomplished nothing except exhausting me.

But more importantly, I discovered something about God I'd never really known before:

He actually was enough. Even for this.

Not in a "everything worked out the way I wanted" sense. But in a "I survived what I thought would destroy me" sense.

God was faithful even when my worst fear came true.

And I had to go through that crisis—had to face the very thing I couldn't trust God with—to discover that my faith was never really in God.

My faith was in my ability to control outcomes.

What Real Trust Actually Looks Like

So what does it mean to actually trust God instead of trying to fix everything?

It's not passive resignation. It's not throwing up your hands and saying "Whatever happens, happens."

Real trust is active surrender.

It's doing the impossible thing God asks you to do, even when every fiber of your being is screaming to do the opposite.

Here's what it looked like for me:

The Impossible Thing: Stop Managing the Outcome

God kept whispering the same thing: "Let go. Trust Me. Abide in My word."

And I kept arguing: "But if I let go, we fail! If I don't fight for this, it's over!"

Finally, I had to choose: Keep doing what wasn't working, or do what God was asking.

I stopped pursuing. Stopped explaining. Stopped defending. Stopped trying to convince her.

And I focused on my own transformation instead of trying to change her.

Not as a strategy to get her back. But because that's what God asked me to do.

That was the hardest thing I've ever done.

Every instinct screamed to chase, explain, fix. But I heard Jesus' words:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:28-29)

So I stopped carrying the burden of fixing my marriage. And I let Jesus carry it.

The Impossible Peace: Rest in the Storm

Here's what happened that made absolutely no sense:

I found peace. In the midst of the worst crisis of my life, I had peace.

Not because circumstances changed. They didn't. The marriage still ended. The pain was still real.

But I had peace anyway.

Because I finally stopped trying to be God and let God be God.

Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

That peace showed up. Not as a feeling. As a Person.

Jesus Himself became my peace when I finally stopped trying to manufacture it through control.

That should be impossible. But it's real.

The Crisis as Invitation

Here's what I've learned:

The crisis you're in right now—the thing you're frantically trying to fix—is not your enemy.

It's your invitation.

An invitation to discover if your faith is real or just religious talk.

An invitation to stop trusting in your ability to control outcomes and start trusting in God's faithfulness.

An invitation to experience God in a way you never have before.

Because you'll never know if God is enough until you face something where you're not enough.

You'll never trust God to catch you until you actually let go.

And as long as you're trying to fix it yourself, you'll never discover what God can do.

The Two Types of Faith

There are two types of faith, and most Christians only have the first:

Theological Faith: Believing God CAN

This is intellectual agreement. You believe the doctrines. You affirm the creeds. You know what the Bible says.

You believe God is powerful enough to do anything.

But believing God CAN do something doesn't mean you trust that He WILL be faithful if things don't go the way you want.

Practical Faith: Trusting God WILL

This is the faith that Jesus calls us to.

Not just believing God is powerful. But trusting that God is faithful.

Trusting Him enough to do what He says even when it terrifies you.

Trusting Him enough to let go even when you don't know what will happen next.

Trusting Him enough to believe He'll be enough even if your worst fear comes true.

That's the faith that's tested in crisis. And that's the faith most of us don't actually have.

We have Sunday faith. We have theological faith. We have "as long as things work out" faith.

But we don't have Monday faith. Crisis faith. "Even if He doesn't" faith.

What God Can Do Through Your Crisis

Here's what I wish someone had told me years ago:

You can't fix it. You were never supposed to be able to fix it.

But God can transform YOU through it.

And your transformation might be the miracle you've been praying for.

Or it might be the preparation for something you never saw coming.

Either way, the crisis is not wasted.

Because the crisis is where you learn to trust God with more than just your words.

It's where theological faith becomes practical faith.

It's where Sunday faith becomes Monday faith.

It's where "I believe God CAN" becomes "I trust God WILL be faithful, even if His plan looks nothing like mine."

That transformation is worth the crisis.

Not because the crisis is good. But because what God does IN you through the crisis is more valuable than what you wanted God to do FOR you.

The Question You Have to Answer

So here's the question you can't avoid:

Do you have real faith, or just religious faith?

Because real faith shows up when crisis hits.

Real faith does what God says even when it feels impossible.

Real faith trusts God will be faithful even if your worst fear comes true.

Religious faith talks about trust while trying to control everything.

Religious faith believes God CAN but doesn't trust God WILL.

Religious faith exhausts itself trying to fix what only God can transform.

Which faith do you have?

Not the faith you say you have on Sunday. Not the faith you teach or preach or post about.

The faith you actually live when everything falls apart.

What to Do Right Now

If you're in the middle of a crisis and you've been trying to fix it instead of trusting God, here's what you need to do:

1. Admit Your Faith Isn't Real

Stop pretending you trust God when your actions prove you don't.

I had to get brutally honest: "God, I say I trust You, but I don't. I'm terrified. And I've been trying to control this because I don't actually believe You'll be enough if I lose this."

That admission is where real faith begins.

2. Ask God What He's Asking You to Do

Not what you think will fix it. What HE is asking.

For me, it was: Stop pursuing. Stop managing. Focus on your own transformation.

For you, it might be something completely different.

But here's the key: It will feel impossible. It will terrify you. It will require trusting God more than your own plan.

That's how you know it's from Him.

3. Do the Impossible Thing

This is where faith becomes real.

Hear what Jesus said. And do it. Even when everything in you screams to do the opposite.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Philippians 4:6)

Stop being anxious. Start trusting. Actually pray instead of just worry.

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me." (Matthew 11:29)

Let Jesus carry what you've been trying to carry. Learn humility. Stop thinking your plan is better than His.

4. Expect the Impossible Peace

Here's what will happen that makes no sense:

When you finally surrender control and do what God asks, you'll find peace in the middle of the storm.

Not because circumstances changed. But because you're finally trusting God instead of trying to be God.

That peace is the evidence that your faith is becoming real.

5. Trust God With the Outcome

This is the hardest part.

You have to genuinely release the outcome. Not as a manipulation tactic. Not while secretly hoping God does what you want anyway.

Really release it.

"God, I trust that You'll be faithful even if this doesn't turn out the way I want. I trust that You'll be enough even if I lose this. I'm going to do what You're asking and leave the results to You."

That prayer will either reveal your faith or create it.

The Invitation

Your crisis is not your enemy. It's your invitation.

An invitation to stop having religious faith and start having real faith.

An invitation to stop trying to fix what only God can transform.

An invitation to discover that God actually is enough—even for this.

But you'll never know until you stop trying to control it.

You'll never experience God's faithfulness until you actually need it.

You'll never have peace in the storm until you stop trying to calm the storm yourself.

The thing you're trying so hard to fix? Let it go.

Do what God is asking. Trust Him with the outcome. Experience the impossible peace that comes from real faith.

You can't fix it. But God can transform you through it.

And that transformation might be exactly what you needed all along.

Ready to Learn What Real Faith Looks Like?

If you're tired of religious faith that exhausts you and ready to discover what it means to actually trust God in crisis, my Following Christ online course will transform how you follow Jesus when everything falls apart.

This 12-week journey includes:

• What Jesus said about anxiety, worry, and fear (and how to actually apply it)
• Faith that's transforming and miraculous (not just intellectual)
• Prayer that brings intimacy, answers, and power (not just empty words)
• The promises of Jesus and how to receive them in crisis

This isn't theory. It's practical faith for real crises.

Need support right now? Text me at (303) 435-2630  or email [email protected] if you're struggling to stop fixing and start trusting.

Remember: Theological faith believes God CAN. Practical faith trusts God WILL be faithful even when your worst fear comes true. Crisis reveals which faith you actually have. Stop trying to fix what only God can transform. Do the impossible thing He's asking. Experience the impossible peace that comes from real faith.

Are you trying to fix it or trusting God with it? Share honestly in the comments—your vulnerability might help someone else stop pretending their religious faith is real faith.