Welcome! Today’s devo is from guest writer Nikki S. White, and she’s writing for anyone who’s tired of being stuck. If you’ve ever wondered whether grace still applies to your particular struggle, Nikki has an answer — and it involves a ditch, a white shirt, and a dad who showed up anyway. You can catch up on all the previous devotionals here.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. — Psalm 40:2 (NIV)
The Lord lifted me out of darkness and planted my feet on the Rock of my Salvation from an early age.
But despite all my best Sunday School efforts, my feet kept getting dirty.
I dismissed God’s Word, gave in to temptation, and said “yes” when I should have said “no.”
On Sunday, I vowed to do better, but by Monday I was sliding down sin’s slippery slope once again.
Like me, many Christians silently struggle with habitual sin and become buried in shame.
The more we’re stuck, the more we begin to doubt if we’re really saved.
We believe the lie that good Christians don’t slip.
We hate ourselves in the morning, look in the mirror and say, “What’s wrong with you? If you were really a Christian, you could beat this.”
Because we assume that since we got ourselves into this mess, it’s up to us to get ourselves out.
But self-reliance and self-hate are lies from the pit of Hell.
The Gospel truth is that no matter how low you’ve sunk, if you are in Christ, you’re a child of God who can always call on your Father.
Grace showed up in my life when I least deserved it.
At the age of 18, I woke up in a stranger’s bed wearing last night’s clothing.
I didn’t remember how I got there until the blurry memories came into focus.
One beer.
Two beers.
A joy ride.
Strangers cheering in the back seat.
A wrong turn.
The tailspin.
The ditch.
“The ditch!” I groaned and held my throbbing head.
Miles from home, I’d lost control of my car and buried it in the mud.
I searched my body for bruises and found none.
Still, I knew I’d broken my sweet dad’s heart.
He’d trusted me with his car.
How could I call him for help after this?
As I weighed my options, I realized I had no choice.
I punched in his number with a shaky finger.
When I heard his voice, I tried not to cry, “Dad? I’m so sorry. I’m in a mess. Can you come help me?”
Dad left work immediately and met me at the shameful spot.
We didn’t appear to be related — I was clothed like a runaway in last night’s disgrace; my dad was smartly dressed, wearing a crisp white work shirt with our family name, BLISS, embroidered on the pocket.
Together, we took in the scene.
Two curving tracks left the road and disappeared into the ditch where my car sat nose-down, wheels deep in mud.
So much like my faith journey.
I braced for the lecture I deserved, “Young lady! You’re grounded for the rest of your life.”
Instead, Dad surprised me with a hug and handed me the keys.
“Get behind the wheel and do what I say,” he said.
He took his place at the bottom of the ditch, planted his polished shoes in the mire and squared his shoulders.
“Give it some gas!”
I obeyed; he grunted and heaved.
The tires whined, barely budging.
“Okay, give it some more!”
I started to move forward, but let off the gas too soon.
The car slid back.
I slumped over the steering wheel.
I’ll never get out of this mess.
But Dad didn’t give up; we continued to work together.
I tapped the gas; he used his strength.
If I let go, he stopped me from sliding back further.
I didn’t know it then, but it was the rhythm of God’s grace, the way He works in our lives when we can’t move forward.
God’s strength works through our weakness, again and again, until we’re ready to move.
Because Jesus set us free to live free… “NOW GUN IT!”
I pushed the pedal to the floorboard and watched in the rearview mirror while mud sprayed all over Dad’s white shirt.
But even covered in dirt, he wore a victory smile.
The BLISS on Dad’s shirt remained clean and untouched.
That’s what your Heavenly Father will do for you, too.
If you take a wrong turn and land in a ditch, God won’t disown you.
In fact, quite the opposite.
When you call, He’ll answer.
When you repent, He’ll restore your keys.
When you show up in last night’s shame, He’ll call for a robe of righteousness and a ring to be placed on your finger.
His strength will pour into your weakness until you break free.
Because when the mud was flying, Jesus didn’t step away.
On the cross, He gladly bore your shame for the joy of having you bear the family name.
“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:21
He’s still your Dad.
You’re still His kid.
Call Him.
About the Author
If you love Jesus and still feel like you’re falling short, Nikki S. White writes for you. As the voice behind “Just a Broken Believer”, she reaches the churchgoer whose heart has quietly drifted from the pew — pointing them back to the grace they already have. Nikki is the author of “A Mother Worth Loving” and co-author of “Goodness and Mercy”, a Steady On Ministries Bible study. You can connect with her here.
P.S. If this devotional met you right where you are, please consider supporting this site by buying me a coffee to help keep these devotions online. You can also share it with someone who is running a hard race. They might need this reminder too. 🤗
Reflection Questions:
Is there somewhere in your life that you’re stuck? A sin you keep slipping into?
Do you believe that Jesus will extend His mercy before you’re completely free?
What lies stop you from calling on your Father? What do you know is true about your salvation?
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