You’re Not Stuck

“Do NOT panic. You are not locked in.”

I chuckled.

Printed neatly in friendly font, the words were posted on the bathroom door at just the right height to be eye-level for anyone seated on the toilet.

Light bathroom reading. And a preemptive strike on panic.

I chuckled because I knew that feeling. That instant, unreasonable, I’m-going-to-break-down-the-door panic that comes from being locked in a bathroom.

Then, looking down at the bottom of the door, I saw the reason for the sign. The pretty blue paint was chipped and scuffed where someone had tried to kick their way out.

A memory of being seven years old and locked in the bathroom with my little sister at the beauty shop instantly popped into my mind.

We were visiting my grandparents and had gone to a real beauty shop. My sister and I got haircuts and sat still long enough for the stylist to curl everything under just so. But I guess we were waiting for my mom to get a perm. Between all the rolling and the talking, things were taking a while. Long enough that my four-year-old sister had to go to the bathroom, and I was tasked with taking her.

No problem. I could do that. I was the big sister.

Plus, it was the early ’80s in a town where everyone knew everyone.

We walked through the old building to the little powder room that was down the way and around the corner. Still in the same building, but through a dark hall and an office, and away from the main area where Mom was.

Far enough away that I was sure they couldn’t hear me banging on the door when I couldn’t open it to leave.

Panic!

I yanked and pulled and turned, but the door wouldn’t budge.

I don’t suppose I actually thought I would die in the bathroom at seven-and-a-half years old, but I wasn’t going to leave our survival to chance.

My little sister was crying, certain we would be forgotten in there forever, and I was desperate to save us.

I went to work on the dry wood of the hollow door.

Bang! Bang! Kick! Bang! Kick!

Had I been stronger, my little foot might have gone through the door. As it was, I left a few scuffs—on the door and the toe of my right shoe.

Then, suddenly, someone opened the door. Cool air and the scent of ammonia wafted in.

I assume the woman who opened the door worked at the tiny beauty shop. I don’t remember if she said anything, but what I read in her perplexed, irritated expression was, What’s wrong with you? Everything is fine. All you have to do is open the door.

As if I hadn’t tried!

I’d been banging on the door for hours!

Well, not hours, exactly.

It was probably more like two minutes. Maybe five tops.

But it felt like hours.

Panic will do that.

It skews time and reality, and suddenly you’re doomed to die in a bathroom.

Perspective and a little information—like the details on the sign on the bathroom door—bring the world back into order.

“Do NOT panic. You are not stuck. Turn the handle all the way to the right.”

You’re Not Stuck

Have you ever felt that surge of panic that comes from feeling stuck?

I’m not talking about being locked in a strange bathroom, although that seems to be a surprisingly common experience.

I mean stuck in life.

Stuck in your story.

Stuck in a situation where every option seems closed and there appears to be no way forward.

That’s when panic can take over.

We start kicking at doors. Making rash decisions. Trying harder and harder to force something to change.

Most of the time, that frantic effort doesn’t solve the problem; it makes it worse. We end up exhausted, bruised, and possibly with a damaged door.

Panic narrows our vision and tells us we have to do something—anything—right now.

But maybe the first thing we need to do is stop. Breathe. Pray.

Give ourselves enough space for the adrenaline to settle and perspective to return.

Isaiah 30:15 (ESV) says:

“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

Quietness and trust.

Pretty much the opposite of bang, bang, kick, bang, kick.

And once we slow down, we may discover that we don’t have to figure everything out by ourselves.

Sometimes another person can see the handle we’ve been yanking the wrong way. They can offer information we don’t have, ask a question we haven’t considered, or simply remind us that the situation isn’t as hopeless as it feels.

Of course, accepting help requires its own kind of humility.

When you’ve been banging on the door for what feels like hours, it’s easy to bristle when someone calmly says, “Have you tried turning the handle the other way?”

Yes, thank you very much. I have tried everything.

Except maybe we haven’t. Maybe there’s another way we can’t see yet.

So if you’re feeling stuck today, resist the urge to start kicking down doors.

Breathe.

Pray.

Slow down.

Then look again.

Listen to the people you trust. Be willing to ask for help—and humble enough to receive it when it comes.

You may discover you’re not stuck after all. You just needed a little perspective to find the way out.