The Truth About Getting Unstuck

One late winter day, I convinced my dad in a moment of weakness that I needed to drive my handed-down Camaro to school after an ice storm had coated the roads overnight. Though at first he wanted my younger brother and I to ride the bus, I explained that I needed a later ride home due to basketball practice. My brother and I made it to just about the ten-mile corner from the farm when that little car didn’t negotiate the curve as skillfully as it could have, and we slid into the ditch. There was no way we were getting out of that predicament with only the know-how and strength of a 14-year-old and a nine-year-old.

We surveyed the area and found no houses within walking distance. Our only option was to wait until my dad drove by later that morning on his way (after farm chores) to his office in town. 

Several weeks ago, I was on the floor in my house for four hours and couldn’t get up. I had suffered a stroke but told myself that I had just forgotten how to get up off the floor. The truth is, I physically couldn’t do it. I was stuck. 

From my journal:

Still trying to get my head around the fact that I really couldn’t get off the floor a few days ago. There was no getting up on my own. I convinced myself it was a memory issue, and not a physical capability issue, but there was actually much more going on.

GETTING STUCK

Not surprising that recently, I’ve thought a lot about what it means to be stuck somewhere. “Getting Stuck” was a phrase that floated around the farm frequently during my childhood to describe various situations. I’m realizing that I rarely hear it anymore. At least not with the same meaning it once had.

Yet, so many of us are stuck: 

• Stuck in regret of our past or fear of our future, 
• Stuck in perfectionism or grudges, 
• Stuck in the disappointment of unmet expectations, 
• Stuck under the heaviness of hard circumstances. 

To be stuck is to be helpless.

For a girl in the Bible, it was the same. There was no way she could get up on her own. No matter what she did, she was stuck. But then Jesus pulled her to her feet:

The synoptic gospels all detail when a synagogue ruler named Jairus begged Jesus to come to his house and heal his 12-year-old daughter who was dying. Jesus agreed, but was detained when He stopped to heal someone else. Meanwhile, the girl died. When Jesus arrived at the house, He told the mourners that the little girl was not dead but just “asleep.” They laughed at Him. Jesus put the mourners outside, took the girl by the hand, saying, “Talitha koum!” (“little girl, get up”). And, to everyone’s astonishment, she did.

 “Get Up” seems a simple command, but it can be more difficult than it first presents.

Apparently, this can be a serious problem. In fact, half of the people who can’t get up from the floor within an hour die within 6 months from complications of getting stuck there. Which explains why there are a slew of YouTube videos to help you learn how to get up.

The good news is, we don’t have to get unstuck on our own. 

NEEDING A HAND

Getting stuck was almost a constant problem on our farm. To avoid it, Dad wisely forbid us kids to drive at certain times. Especially following a storm. He knew we’d get buried up to our axles (in mud or snow) on dirt roads or in our driveway, and he didn’t want to pull our small car out later. So he drove us to school and ball practice, or—more often—to the bus stop. He knew how difficult it can be to remedy “getting stuck.” It took his direct involvement—it took his hand.

Thankfully, my husband sensed something wasn’t right, and came home to check on me after my health scare. I was in dire need of a hand then, too.

It seems the hand is a significant part of getting help.

Jesus told Jairus’s daughter to “Get Up”, but the words before that were even more important:

 He (Jesus) took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). (Mark 5:41, NIV,  emphasis added)

Other times in Scripture a hand preceded His help:

• To comfort His people, “I am the Lord your God. I am holding your hand, so don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.” (Isaiah 41:13, CEV)
• Before restoring a man’s withered limb, Jesus said, “Stretch out your hand” (Matthew 12:13). 
• And To Thomas, “reach out your hand” so a touch could help him believe. (John 20:27).

God wants to partner with us, and comfort us with His hand. As Tim Keller explained,

Jesus longs to take us by the Hand, and perhaps He was always saying—even to Jairus’s daughter—If I have you by the hand, life is manageable, and death is nothing but sleep.”

Tim Keller

I suppose that’s the crux of the gospel itself, realizing you need His Hand, that you can’t resolve your sin-prone situation on your own. Reaching…with our guilty hand toward His wounded one.

On that icy school day, my still-wiser little brother suggested we turn on our flashers so we would get noticed. (I also attempted to reach out to my husband by instructing Siri to call him when I was on the floor.)

Even though sometimes in our waiting, it feels like there is no help coming, like those hours on the floor or in the ditch. 

Why do you hold back your hand, your right hand? Take it from the folds of your garment…” 

(Psalm 74:11, NIV)

When we’re stuck, it can feel like God is keeping His powerful Hands in His pockets. And that’s when the faith questions often come.

MORE THAN ONE WAY TO GET STUCK

Dad usually rescued us from being stuck on dirt roads made untravellable by rain or from being stuck in a broken-down car on city streets, so he didn’t expect to see my car nose-first in a ditch on a paved road, halfway to town. (The flashers helped.)

Turns out, there’s more than one way to get stuck. 

Being stuck—unable to get up on our own— is a strange thing. Whether we actually can’t or we think we can’t, it’s the same thing. We have to acknowledge our need for a hand to get up. When we do, that hand leads us deeper— into a stronger faith. God knows sometimes we get to a place in faith where it feels like we can’t move forward on our own understanding and ability.

Over the last nearly decade with heart failure, I’ve learned quite a bit about heart issues, but even more about faith questions. It feels more dangerous to question the older we get. It takes deep courage to stretch beyond a faith that already makes sense to us. But that risky reach keeps us from getting stuck in an even more perilous way.

It takes deep courage to stretch beyond a faith that already makes sense to us. But that risky reach keeps us from getting stuck in an even more perilous way.

Lori Ann Wood

After all, not fully understanding Him—asking questions—affirms His omniscience over us. A god small enough that we always understand may not be one big enough to always get us off the floor.

We know this about our good God: First He takes us by the hand, then asks us to get up. Never on our own strength alone. But even before that, there is always our reaching out, an admission of vulnerability, and a need for His Hand.

We reach for God in many ways: 

• Through praise and petition.
• Through worship and wrestling,
• Through Scripture and song,
• Through quietness and questions.

And through them all, He reaches for us.”

In fact, it is only in getting stuck and then reaching that we discover God has always been reaching for us:

Prayer is how we press our hands into the invisible and find the hand of Christ reaching back.

James K. A. Smith

MORE THAN A FIX

It seemed like forever, but a couple hours after the car encountered that ditch, we finally did see Dad’s pickup crawling up the icy road behind us in the car’s side mirror. I felt relief but mostly I felt my father’s care.

I remember feeling so loved when dad would rescue me from being stuck on those dirt roads around our farm or from a breakdown in town. I didn’t like to be a problem for him, but I also felt valued when his important world stopped for me. He went from busy farmer or trusted businessman to being my dad. 

We know God differently on the stuck days, too. And we become something different ourselves.

We know God differently on the stuck days, too. And we become something different ourselves.

Lori Ann Wood

On Jesus’s way to Jairus’s dying daughter that day, another daughter reached out for help. The woman who had been bleeding for 12 years touched the hem of His garment. She became the only person in the New Testament to be called “daughter.” It took being stuck, and then reaching out to fully appreciate her position as “daughter,” something much more valuable than the healing itself.

In the long haul of heart failure, through repeatedly reaching out, I’ve slowly developed the courage to want more than a cure. I want a relationship. I want to be called “child,” or “daughter.”

Most of those dirt roads near our family farm are now paved, and most young drivers have immediate access to a cellphone, and maybe even free roadside assistance, and there is a certain sadness—and loss—in that. Knowing daughters will no longer get stuck, sit in the waiting, reaching out for their father’s hand—his direct involvement—there. 

As you travel the tricky roads of life often naïve and overconfident, no matter how or where you get stuck, remember your Father’s heart for you:

Get up, child. You are mine. You can boldly reach out for my Hand.  In life and faith dilemmas, I’ve got you. I’m the One you can trust to get you unstuck.

Listen to this post read by the author HERE.