So You're Stuck in a Rut? You’re Not Alone
“I waited patiently for the Lord, and He returned to me and heard my cry for help. He brought me up from a desolate pit, out of the muddy clay, and set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord. How happy is the man who has put his trust in the Lord and has not turned to the proud or to those who run after lies! Lord my God, You have done many things—Your wonderful works and Your plans for us; none can compare with You. If I were to report and speak of them, they are more than can be told.”
I’m not going to lie—it’s difficult for me to sit down and write this. For many reasons.
But when God planted this ministry in my heart and called me to build it with Him, I knew that one of this ministry’s values would be transparency.
For through transparency comes relatability and testimony. And those two things can be used by God for anything.
So, join me in grabbing a cup of coffee, finding a comfortable seat to relax in, and taking a deep breath.
Let’s talk about ruts.
Falling Into Ruts
If you had told me at the beginning of the new year—just a short month ago—what I would be feeling right now, I’d probably laugh in your face. And then scream in fear. And then worry incessantly.
The “New Year Kaylee” was full of hope and light and joy. She was excited to dedicate January to sitting down with God and planning for the year. For this ministry. For many new and exciting things.
She had her planners laid out neatly. Pens clicked and ready. Music on and jamming. Everything was ripe—
—until one day.
I cannot pinpoint this day for you. Cannot tell you what day of the week it fell on or what date it was.
But what I can tell you is that it felt like I fell downward. Fast and hard, as if someone had yanked me down. Really, though, in retrospect—it was my own decision.
For two (or three?) weeks after, life was blurry and mundane. Appetites, motivation, and sleeping habits decreased. Anxiety, indifference, and insomnia increased.
All I knew was the square screen of my phone and the heavy weight in my bones.
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All I knew was the square screen of my phone and the heavy weight in my bones. -
This was a full-on rut. A spiritual, physical, emotional, and mental one.
This was an all-out attack by the enemy.
Because as I sat in the muddy ruts of my life, I could still feel God. But He was muffled. I had covered myself in the mud of my rut, ashamed. No better than Adam and Eve hiding in the Garden of Eden after sinning. And I knew God was standing above me, waiting with open arms and ready for me to crawl out whenever I was ready myself.
But I just couldn’t.
Even though I knew it was the enemy who kept me hostage in my own rut and my own mind. Even though I knew I could just press up on the mud, lifting my hand up to God, and it would all go away.
The mud. The rut. The shame.
Everything.
At some point during my rut, I was standing in my bathroom brushing my teeth when I felt Jesus standing beside me. He brought to mind the story of the promiscuous woman in John 8 (you know—the woman thrust into the middle of a crowd by religious leaders, who demanded that she be stoned in front of Jesus for her adultery).
“Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, Lord,” she answered.
“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.” (John 8:10-11).
When He reminded me of this story, I started crying at how much love I felt from Jesus in that moment.
Jesus didn’t condemn me, either, for the decisions I made that dragged me into this ruthless rut.
He never has. He never will.
“Yet the awful things about ruts, my friend—the mud domes we place over our minds and hearts to block out everything and everyone in the world, including our own Savior—is that they’re so comfortable.”
Not in the sense that we want to be there and prefer to be there over alternative places that are cleaner, fresher, and happier.
I’m talking about comfort in the sense that once we’re in . . . we really don’t want to get out. Because remaining stuck, sitting in the stenches of our own shame, is a lot easier than clawing out.
So how do we get out?
Rising Up
I wish this was the part of my testimony where I told you how I rose up to the challenge of getting unstuck. How I kicked the roof of my self-made mud dome and crawled out alive, the light of day streaming on my dirt-spattered face.
But it’s not.
While I feel myself slowly starting to wake up again—to become the content, joyful, intentional Kaylee that I know and love—this season of my life is not over yet.
And I’d venture to bet that you, sister in Christ, have felt this way sometimes, too.
I don’t want to normalize ruts. I don’t want to normalize trapping ourselves within decreased appetites, sprawling insomnia, collapsing motivation, and eliminated quiet times with God.
What I want to do, instead, is to normalize the notion that if you experience these things in your own rut—know that these things are normal symptoms. And it’s okay to not be okay.
As someone who has been in some super severe ruts in her life, God has used several verses to grab the hand of His wayward daughter and pull her up from the pits in which she found herself trapped and hurt.
“Remain in Me, and I in you. Just as a branch is unable to produce fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in Me.”
We will never be able to remove ourselves from our own ruts.
It is solely by rooting ourselves in God and remaining there, instead of rutting in our circumstances, that we find freedom and sunshine again.
So . . . how do we root ourselves in God and remain with Him? Especially in a time when getting out of bed, putting down the phone, or eating something nutritious feels like the equivalent of moving a mountain?
Wait patiently on the Lord (Ps. 40:1). I know this seems counterintuitive. I know it seems like the last thing you want to do is seek and wait on a God Who you feel will be ashamed of you for dragging yourself into your own rut. But I promise, dear sister: any little reach of the hand toward God is a little retreating step of the enemy when they know that you belong to God . . . and that He’s about to tear down the mud roof around you.
Trust God (Ps. 40:4). Again, I know it seems counterintuitive. You have to remind yourself—no matter how deeply you feel otherwise—that God is there for you. Waiting for you. Loving you and wanting to hold you close again. For me, this step looks like keeping my Bible on my nightstand where it always is . . . even when I haven’t opened it in weeks. But there it remains . . . because I know it will be waiting for me when I’m ready to open it. And so will God.
Run after truth, not lies (Ps. 40:4). The more you listen to the lies of the enemy, the deeper he will push you into the muddy rut you covered yourself with. “I’m not good enough . . . I’ll never succeed . . . no one cares . . . it’s too much . . . I’m too much.” These are LIES, daughter of God. Do. Not. Pay. Attention.
Praise God and His wonderful works in your life (Ps. 40:5). Again, praising God when you are trapped in a rut seems near impossible. Start small. Listen to a worship song, even just the chorus if need be. Write down a short prayer to God thanking Him for what He has done in your life previously. Sit outside and enjoy His nature. Anything—find anything to help you draw nearer to God and His goodness toward you.
If you take anything away from this testimony and encouraging words of mine, let it be this:
You are not alone.
Unfortunately, life is filled with as many smooth roads as it is ruts. So when you do find yourself in one, remember to draw yourself closer to Your Father God. He will take care of the rest. He will fight for you.
Root yourself and remain in Him—
—and He will lift you out of the rut.
