There was a monumental time in my life journey when I felt completely stuck.
Physically, emotionally, and mentally as well. I was not in control of what was happening to me.
I was self-employed and very busy work-wise, but could not seem to concentrate or make progress, no matter how hard I tried. I stared at my dual computer screens, knowing exactly what I needed to do, but wasn’t able to execute. Why?
I thought I needed a nap, but that didn’t help. I thought I needed some time off, and that didn’t help either.
I was perplexed as to what was going on and why I couldn’t focus, but I kept grinding. Some days were better, and I was able to be productive at some level. Other days were completely opposite.
I didn’t give up, and I was trying to take care of my health, searching for answers, making changes where I could—but nothing seemed to move the needle in any meaningful way.
Over time, the feeling began to settle in quietly:
What if this is just how it is?
As I shared in my book, Faithful Autoimmune Remission, there were seasons where the uncertainty felt heavy. I didn’t feel like I was moving forward, and that created a sense of frustration I couldn’t easily explain.
But what I’ve come to understand is this:
Feeling stuck is not the same as being stuck.
Often, it’s a signal.
A signal that something needs attention—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.
Many of us, especially as women navigating autoimmune conditions, live in a constant state of pressure. Pressure to figure things out. Pressure to get better. Pressure to keep going.
And that pressure can quietly lead to overwhelm.
In my case, I subscribed to the pressure to keep going. I tried to power through until I couldn’t. It was then I realized I needed to stop striving. I needed to slow down long enough to listen to my body—and quiet myself enough to hear God.
From a physiological perspective, when we feel overwhelmed, the body can enter a stress response that affects energy, motivation, and even inflammation levels. The nervous system shifts into a protective state, and that can feel like stagnation.
But what looks like “stuck” is often the body asking for something different.
For me, the shift began when I stopped asking,
“Why am I not getting better?”
and started asking,
“What is one small step I can take today?”
That question changed everything.
It removed the pressure of needing to figure everything out at once and allowed me to focus on gentle, consistent movement forward.
Sometimes that step was as simple as:
- going for a short walk
- preparing a nourishing meal
- taking a few quiet moments in prayer
- choosing one supportive thought instead of a fearful one
These small shifts began to create momentum.
And over time, that momentum gave me hope.
Proverbs 3:5 NLT reminds us:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.”
There were many moments when I didn’t understand what was happening in my body or my life. It was also impacting me economically, which led to some fear. I wondered how I would live and support myself if I couldn’t work? However, learning to trust—both the process and God’s presence within it—became part of my healing.
If you’re feeling stuck right now, I want you to hear this:
You are not failing.
You are not behind.
And your healing journey is not over.
You may simply be in a season that requires a different kind of movement—one that is slower, more intentional, and rooted in grace.
Start small.
Because small steps, taken consistently, have the power to move you forward in ways you may not yet see.
And you don’t have to do it all at once.
In love and health,
Terri
