A Week in Bed and What It Taught Me About Marriage

I spent last week in bed.

Not because I was sick, at least not in the traditional sense. I was depleted. Burnt out. Running on fumes that had long since evaporated. Outside of showering, brushing my teeth, and washing my face, I pretty much stayed horizontal. I cooked dinner maybe once. I responded to emails and dealt with our youth and social workers from under my covers. But getting up? Facing the world? I just couldn’t do it.

And honestly, I didn’t want to.

At the beginning of 2025, the Lord gave me a word: this year would be an adventure. And let me tell you, He wasn’t lying. But here’s what nobody tells you about adventures: they’re scary. Most of this year, I’ve been holding my breath, terrified to even inhale deeply because I don’t know what’s coming next. I’ve been on this ride gripping the safety bar with white knuckles, scared of every dip and curve.

We lost significant funding this year. Programs I was so excited to launch in 2025, the ones I spent all of 2024 dreaming about and planning for, never got off the ground. That’s been heartbreaking in ways I struggle to put into words.

But what really broke me last week was watching our teens, these young people we’ve poured months and years into, make decisions that led to painful consequences. Watching things fall apart despite all the love, time, and energy we’ve invested. It made me question everything. What exactly am I doing? What is Unashamed actually accomplishing? Is there any real transformation happening, or am I just spinning my wheels?

I found myself angry at God. Genuinely angry. Because for so many years of my professional life, I put my best energy, my sharpest focus, my most strategic thinking into building other people’s dreams. I helped other people’s businesses thrive and succeed. And now, when He’s finally released me to walk in the purpose He called me to, working with foster and teenage youth, something so deeply connected to my own story and heart, I feel like I have nothing left to give. I’m depleted. Burnt out. Empty.

It felt cruel, if I’m being honest.

So I stayed in bed. Because I didn’t know what else to do.

At the end of the week, I looked at my husband Joshua and thanked him. I thanked him for allowing me to just be. For not judging me. For not trying to motivate me out of bed with pep talks or frustration. For not making me feel guilty about dinner not being cooked or things not getting done. He just let me have my moment.

What he said in response changed something in me.

“Babe, there’s so much that you have done in your life. You deserve to just rest. You deserve to just lay down. You deserve to just not do anything. And if I can give you that, then that makes me happy.”

Ya'll. Do you understand what he did for my soul in that moment? There aren’t a lot of men who would respond that way. Many would have pushed, questioned, maybe even criticized. But my husband saw me in my depletion and chose to hold space for it. He didn’t try to fix me or rush my process. He just loved me right where I was.

He doesn’t even realize what he did for my spirit.

Let me be real with you, marriage is hard work. Josh and I have had our share of problems, individually and together. We’ve had seasons where we’ve had to fight for our marriage, fight for each other, fight for the vision God gave us. It hasn’t been perfect, not by a long shot.

But here’s what we’ve always done, we’ve shown up for each other. We’ve believed in whatever God had for each other to do. When he’s been down, I’ve held him up. When I’ve been flat on my back in bed for a week, he’s held space for me. We’ve loved each other’s purpose and dreams, not just each other.

And that has made all the difference.

This journey, marriage, ministry, motherhood, all of it, becomes so much more bearable when you’re partnered with someone who loves you when you’re up and when you’re down. When you’re winning and when you’re questioning everything. When you’re full of vision and when you’re empty and depleted.

A wedding is just one day. It’s beautiful, it’s meaningful, but it’s just one day. Marriage is what happens in all the days after, including the ones where you can’t get out of bed.

Today is Monday. I got up. I’m still waiting on the Lord to tell me what’s next for Unashamed, what 2026 looks like, whether I’m supposed to keep going or do something completely different. Honestly, part of me just wants a regular job, answering phones, scheduling appointments, going home, and minding my business. No big vision. No heartbreak over youth who make destructive choices. Just simplicity.

But God hasn’t released me from this work yet. He hasn’t given me permission to shut Unashamed down or walk away. So this week, I’m surrendering again. I’m putting it all before Him and asking for His direction. I’m getting out of bed and doing whatever He’s called me to do. For now, until He gives me another plan.

I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t know what 2026 will bring for me, for Unashamed, for anything. But I know I’m not walking this uncertain path alone.

If you’re in a season of depletion right now, I need you to know: you’re not failing. Sometimes rest looks like a week in bed. Sometimes surrender looks like saying “I don’t know” a hundred times a day. Sometimes faithfulness looks like showing up even when you want to quit, and sometimes it looks like giving yourself permission to pause.

If you’re married or in a relationship, be intentional about who you’re building with. Choose someone who will love not just your highlight reel, but your breakdown moments. Someone who sees you at your most depleted and says “you deserve to rest.” Someone who believes in your purpose even when you’re questioning it yourself.

And if you’re single, don’t settle. Don’t choose someone just because they show up on good days. Make sure they’re the kind of person who will hold space for your hard days too. Who will protect your rest when you can’t protect it yourself. Who will love your dreams even when those dreams feel like they’re dying.

Because the truth is, we all have seasons where the adventure feels like too much. Where we’re scared of the dips and curves. Where we just want to stay in bed and hide from it all.

And in those moments, having the right person beside you makes all the difference.

Pray for me, y’all. I’m trusting God for what’s next, even when I can’t see it. And I’m grateful, so deeply grateful, for a husband who lets me fall apart and loves me through it.

xoxo - Sana