Navigating Your Way Through the Wilderness
In our last conversation, we talked about recognizing those Wilderness Seasons; times when life feels uncertain, overwhelming, and deeply challenging. But understanding you're in the Wilderness is just the beginning. The deeper journey lies in navigating through it.
If you’re reading this, I want you to pause for a moment and know that you are not alone. It often feels like no one could possibly understand what you're experiencing. But trust me, I do. I know the frustration of struggling to express my thoughts and feelings clearly, and how exhausting it is to constantly battle the fear of being misunderstood or judged. I still wrestle with the paralyzing thought of being truly seen, especially when I'm not as confident in my own abilities. The doubts linger, whispering that maybe I don't have what it takes, that perhaps I'm destined to keep making mistakes. I’ve stood frozen at those crossroads, overwhelmed and unsure, desperately hoping for clarity that never seems to arrive as quickly as I'd like.
The thing about Wilderness Seasons is that they have this way of making us feel completely alone, even when we're surrounded by people. It's that internal landscape where our fears live louder than our hopes, where our doubts feel more real than our dreams. And in that space, we often find ourselves stuck—uncertain of how to move, unsure of what the next step should be. Not because we don’t want to move forward, but because we honestly don’t know how. That’s where I’ve found myself more times than I can count. And maybe, that’s where you are too. So, let’s take a moment together to talk about what it looks like to begin finding our way through.
Courage to Take the Next Small Step
Navigating your Wilderness isn’t about having all the answers or a clearly marked map. It's about having the courage to take the next step—even when that step feels terrifyingly uncertain. There were many times when I stood frozen, paralyzed by fear: fear of failing yet again, fear of disappointing others, and fear of stepping blindly into the unknown. Each decision felt monumental, each step fraught with doubt.
We tell ourselves we need to have it all figured out before we can take the next step. We wait for clarity, for certainty, for some kind of cosmic sign that we're making the "right" choice. I wanted reassurance that I was heading in the right direction, but life rarely provides such guarantees. It doesn't offer us a GPS with turn-by-turn directions.
Instead, it asks us to trust that we can only see the next few steps—and that maybe, just maybe, that's enough. Moving forward doesn’t require seeing the whole path ahead clearly. It only demands the bravery to take a single small step, trusting that the clarity will come. Each step, no matter how hesitant or tiny, begins to reveal the path forward.
The Voices That Keep Us Stuck: Breaking Free from Repetitive Cycles
Digging deeper into my Wilderness, I uncovered painful beliefs deeply rooted within me, beliefs I hardly knew existed but that quietly guided my life. Beliefs like "I'm not good enough," "I don't deserve happiness," or "I'm incapable of real change." These invisible chains kept me locked in cycles, repeating the same mistakes year after year.
I recently stumbled upon an old journal entry from over ten years ago. As I read through it, my heart sank. It was devastating. Every struggle I'd written about, every hope for change, every dream, every fear, every doubt mirrored exactly what I was experiencing now. A decade had passed, and I felt like I was still in the same place, fighting the same battles. It felt like I had wasted years, caught in an endless loop of repeating the same behaviors without meaningful progress.
How many of us are carrying around stories about ourselves that keep us stuck? Stories about what we're capable of, what we deserve, whether we're strong enough or smart enough or worthy enough to change. These aren't just thoughts, they're like underbrush in our wilderness, tangling around our feet every time we try to move forward.
Initially, confronting these beliefs was incredibly difficult because they felt like truths. Honestly, I still struggle with these beliefs as they are rooted into my being. But slowly, by gently exploring where these ideas come from and what fears they protect me from, I begin to dismantle their hold. This process isn’t about brute force or quick fixes; it’s about compassionate self-discovery, gradually understanding and challenging the hidden lies that have dictated my choices for so long.
I'm still learning to identify these voices in my own life. The one that says I should have figured this out by now. The one that whispers I'm falling behind while everyone else has their lives together. The one that questions whether I'm even capable of real change.
Maybe you have your own versions of these voices. Maybe they sound different, but they serve the same purpose, keeping you small, keeping you safe, keeping you exactly where you are.
The Things We Reach For When We're Drowning
When the Wilderness feels overwhelming, we all have our go-to escapes. Some of them are healthy; calling a friend, going for a walk, writing in a journal. But others? They're just ways of avoiding the discomfort of not knowing, of not being in control.
I've noticed my own patterns. The way I'll throw myself into work when I don't want to face something difficult, drown my emotions with comfort foods, endlessly binge watch TV, filling every quiet moment because the silence feels too heavy. How I'll make myself so busy that I don't have time to sit with the uncertainty.
These aren't character flaws, they're human responses to discomfort. But they're also ways of staying stuck, of avoiding the very thing that might help us grow.
Recognizing these coping mechanisms for what they are, temporary distractions rather than genuine healing, is one of my hardest truths even now. It forces us to question why we repeatedly choose immediate comfort over lasting growth. Facing this reality isn’t easy, but it is essential for true progress.
Learning to Sit With What Is
Here's what I'm discovering in my own Wilderness: the goal isn't to escape it or rush through it. It's to learn how to be present with it. To stop fighting against the uncertainty and start listening to what it might be trying to teach me.
This doesn't mean being passive or just accepting whatever comes our way. It means getting curious about our struggles instead of just trying to fix them. It means asking ourselves questions like: What is this season of my life trying to show me? What fears am I avoiding? What parts of myself am I not willing to face?
I'm not great at this yet. I still have days when I want to fast-forward through the difficult parts, when I want someone else to just tell me what to do. But I'm learning that the Wilderness has its own timeline, and fighting against it only makes the journey longer.
The Courage to Keep Walking
Every Wilderness story I've ever heard has one thing in common: it requires courage. Not the kind of courage that feels fearless and confident, but the kind that moves forward despite the fear. The kind that says, "I don't know what's next, but I'm willing to find out."
Some days, that courage looks like having a difficult conversation. Other days, it's as simple as getting out of bed when everything feels heavy. Sometimes it's reaching out for help when pride tells us we should figure it out alone.
What I'm learning is that courage isn't a destination, it's a practice. It's something we choose again and again, one small step at a time, even when we can't see where we're going.
Your Story Matters and You Are Not Alone
Your Wilderness experience isn't unique, and that's actually a good thing. It means someone else has been exactly where you are, felt exactly what you're feeling, and found their way through. You're not the only one who's been carrying the same struggles for longer than you'd like to admit. You're not the only one who's tired of not knowing what comes next. Your story, your struggles, and your insights can become a lifeline for others feeling isolated in their Wilderness.
All of us, every single one of us, are walking through our own uncharted territories, facing our own fears, learning our own lessons. And while your Wilderness is unique to you, the experience of being in one isn't.
That decade-old journal that made me feel like such a failure? It also reminded me of something important; I'm still here. I'm still walking. I'm still growing, even when it doesn't feel like it. Even when the progress is so slow it's invisible.
The Invitation to Begin Again
Your Wilderness isn't punishment. It's not evidence that you're behind or broken or doing life wrong. It's an invitation to listen more deeply to yourself, to challenge the stories that keep you small, to discover what you're truly capable of when you stop trying to control everything.
Reflect on your journey:
What lessons has your Wilderness taught you?
How are these challenges shaping you into the person you're meant to be?
What comforts might you be holding onto that actually keep you trapped?
What new tools (like journaling, prayer, meditation, or supportive relationships) could you embrace to guide you forward?
Every part of your journey, even the hardest moments, shapes you into who you're becoming. Every uncertain step matters. Every difficult moment refines you, preparing you for what's next. Your story isn't about perfection; it's about resilience, perseverance, and moving forward despite setbacks. It’s the beginning of an incredible journey toward becoming who you're truly meant to be. By sharing your experiences, you create hope and guidance for others who might be lost in their own Wilderness.
I don't have all the answers. I'm not writing this from the other side, from some place of having figured it all out. I'm writing this from the middle of my own journey, from the place where I'm still learning, still growing, still becoming.
But here's what I do know; every step counts, even the ones that feel like mistakes. Every moment of sitting with uncertainty is building your capacity to trust yourself. Every time you choose to keep walking instead of staying stuck, you're becoming more of who you're meant to be.
So wherever you are in your Wilderness, whether you're just entering it or you've been wandering for what feels like forever, know that this season of your life matters and it doesn’t last forever. It's not just something to get through; it's where your Becoming happens.
Take the next step, even if you can't see the whole path. Trust that you have everything you need for this part of the journey. And remember that the Wilderness, as challenging as it is, is also where we find our strength.
Keep walking forward. Keep moving toward your dreams. Because the only way that you fail is if you stop. You're not lost. You're Becoming.
If you’re looking for tools to support you on your journey, I’ve created a collection of guided journals and resources designed to help you reflect, reset, and realign as you move through your Wilderness season. Each one was thoughtfully crafted to meet you where you are; with compassion, clarity, and encouragement for the road ahead.
Take a moment to visit the Wilderness Journey’s-End Shop. You might just find something that speaks to your season and helps light the next step of your path.
Remember, no matter how uncertain the path may seem, there is always a way through.
May your journey through the Wilderness be one of discovery, growth, and profound transformation.
If this message resonated with you, I invite you to watch the full video where I dive deeper into the heart of this conversation. You can find it below.