Today was one of those days when it’s incredibly easy to bemoan where you are in life. In my case, literally where.

A couple days ago, I came down with a sinus infection that’s had me coughing and sneezing left and right, and then yesterday my husband, Kaleb, came down with the flu. It was like we became a hot mess overnight. Dishes piled high in the sink, too few clean bowls and spoons for our soup and jello fixes, and Kleenexes everywhere.

Trying to take care of him between my coughing fits and sneezing spells made me wonder, “What are we doing all the way on the other side of the country from our family who would run over here right away and help if they could?”

I found it so easy to dwell on “what could have been” had we lived somewhere else. Between all the medicine bottles, cough drops, temperature checks, and energy crashes of today, I just wanted help.

I mean how nice would it be to call and ask someone to run to the store for another box of Kleenex, so I don’t have to resort to toilet paper? (I’d go myself but after going out in the dark last night to get Kaleb’s medicine and then missing my turn on the way home and getting completely turned around in the dark, because I was (A) so tired and (B) thinking about how I may get the flu next, I’ve opted to hold out until daylight comes and I’ve had a good night’s rest.)

But once we caught a break, and I was able to lie down and rest for a bit, I remembered something that multiple people had told Kaleb and I before we got married. They all said, “It’s nice that you’re starting your marriage far away as just the two of you, because it will make you depend on each other and God more.”

And that’s exactly what these past couple days have done. That, and also reminded me that nothing lasts forever, and we just need to hunker down and weather the storm before we can get to the other side.

Because we had no one else, we took care of each other. The days I was sick before Kaleb, he insisted I stay in bed, went to the store for popsicles and soup, and made all my meals for me. Now that he is sick, I do the same for him. Somehow, we make it work. He stays in his room, and I’ve claimed the living room to keep our individual germs to ourselves. We keep his room cold, and my room warm. We text each other if we need anything, and only occasionally disturb each other’s Hulu streaming by trying to watch something on our own device. It may be a funny system, but its our system.

In one of today’s calmer moments, God’s quiet voice encouraged me to open my Bible and find some encouragement and strength. I opened to the Psalms and (wonder of wonders) found exactly what I needed to hear in chapter 61. David says:

“I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I…Let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings!”

How easily that prayer poured out of my heart too. I so needed to be reminded about the Rock who is higher, stronger, and more capable than I am. How grateful I was to be reminded that I could find refuge with Christ, and I didn’t have to take care of both Kaleb and myself alone anymore. I never had to.

How often I forget that we aren’t a team of two, but of three. And the Third makes all the difference.