What to Do When You Feel Lost (and Don’t Know What to Do)

Do you know that feeling?

It’s the feeling of standing at a crossroads, but you can’t see any of the paths. It’s the quiet, hollow feeling of waking up and not knowing which direction to step first.

It’s The In between. It’s when the clouds roll in low and blanket everything, and all you can do is stand still.

In our hearts, this grayness feels like anxiety, confusion, or even failure. The world tells us we must always have a plan, a five-step guide, a “next move.” We send up our prayers to God, hoping for a loud, clear, burning-bush kind of answer.

And when all we get back is this heavy stillness, we panic. We think we’re doing something wrong. We think we’ve been forgotten.

I want to lean in close and whisper something to your heart, right here in this hazy, “in-between” place:

It is okay. Everything is okay in this moment. You are not failing. You are just paused.

And this pause? It might just be the most sacred, necessary place you can be.

The Grace in Not Knowing

We are so busy trying to do that we forget the deep, holy power of simply being.

What if this “I don’t know” isn’t a problem to be solved? What if it’s an invitation to be held?

Think about it. When we are frantically running, list-making, and striving, our hands are full, and our hearts are clenched. We have no room to receive.

But when we are brought to a place of stillness, this place where we can’t figure it out on our own, our hands finally open.

This is the place of surrender. This is the place where we finally stop trying to tell God our plan and become quiet enough to hear His. He knows the path. He knit the entire journey together.

This inability to see ahead isn’t a sign that He is absent. It is the very thing He is using to draw you closer, to ask you to stop walking by your own sight and start trusting in His.

Your only job in this moment is not to find the answer. Your job is to be still, to be kind to yourself in the not-knowing, and to listen.

Your Journal: An Anchor in the Mist

When you can’t see the road, the page isn’t a place to find the solution. It is a place to hold the questions.

Think of your journal as an anchor. It’s a quiet companion that will sit with you in the gray and not demand a single thing.

When your mind is spinning with “what ifs” and “shoulds,” the journal is where you can pour all of that out, making space for your heart to breathe. It’s a place to be completely, beautifully honest with God about your confusion, your fear, and your longing for direction.

This is not a moment for a to-do list. This is a moment for a “to-be” list.

Prompts for the ‘In-Between’

When you find yourself in that cloud of uncertainty, open your journal. Don’t force anything. Just meet yourself on the page with one of these soft whispers.

• The Check-In: How does this “I don’t know” feel in my body right now? I will describe it with kind, honest words.
• The Permission: What is one “next step” I can give myself permission NOT to figure out today?
• The Self-Compassion: If I knew, deep down, that I was being held and that this pause was part of a divine plan, how would I treat myself in this exact moment?
• The Scripture: “He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.” (Psalm 23:2-3). What would “quiet waters” feel like for me today, even for just five minutes?
• The Surrender: God, in this place of not knowing, I release my need for the big answer. Instead, please show me the very next, smallest, kindest step to take.
• The Truth: What is one truth about God’s character (His faithfulness, His love, His timing) that I can hold onto today like an anchor?

The Clouds Will Part

I give myself permission to simply be in this “in-between.” For today, it is enough to just… be.

Please, be so careful with yourself. You are not stuck. You are not lost. You are in a holy waiting room.

The mist will clear, and the path will reveal itself, exactly when it is meant to. Until then, just be.

With so much warmth,

Debbera