Brent Wernsing

Brent Wernsing
There was a season when it felt like everything I had poured my life into was unraveling. We had seen blessing, momentum, growth—God was moving. Then COVID hit, and it felt like all the work of those early years had been swept away overnight. We couldn’t gather. We didn’t know if we’d have a place to meet. People drifted. The future felt uncertain. And if I’m honest, I wasn’t just carrying ministry questions—I was carrying personal ones too. How do I provide for my family? Do I keep going? Do I give up?

For a couple of months, I remember lying awake night after night, wrestling with questions I couldn’t answer. I felt purposeless, directionless, even hopeless at times. It was the first time I had walked through a season of depression, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

But somewhere in that wilderness, things began to shift.

A local business opened their doors to us. People stayed engaged. Support came from places I didn’t expect—people in our church, other pastors, voices reminding me that God’s calling hadn’t changed. What changed was the path. The how, the where, the when, even the who—but not the calling.

And slowly, what felt like loss started looking like rebuilding.

The passion returned. The zeal returned. We relaunched, replanted, and in many ways started stronger than before. God didn’t just restore what we had—He refined it. He strengthened the foundation. He revealed weaknesses we needed to address. He sifted, shaped, and prepared us.

Now I can see my “40” wasn’t God abandoning me. It was God preparing us.

Sometimes what feels like everything falling apart is God laying a stronger foundation.

And maybe the greatest gift in that season was this: I gained empathy. I now understand pain I had never personally carried before.

If you’re still in your “40,” don’t assume God is absent because things feel uncertain. He may be working behind the scenes, setting you up for what’s next. Don’t let doubt or despair make you lose sight of His calling.

Your wilderness may be preparation, not punishment.

A new day will dawn.