WHEN YOU CAN’T FIX IT
Have you ever faced something you just couldn’t fix?
No amount of effort, planning, or prayer strategy could turn it around. The bills kept coming. The fight at home didn’t get better. The news from the doctor was worse than you expected.
We smile in public, but at night, we whisper, “I don’t know how to fix this.”
We live in a world that tells us we should be able to solve our own problems. Work harder. Try a new strategy. Read another book. Follow these seven steps. Download this app. But some situations don’t have a self-help solution.
THE ILLUSION OF CONTROL
Our culture worships self-sufficiency. We celebrate the self-made entrepreneur, the person who “pulled themselves up by their bootstraps,” the individual who “made it happen” through sheer determination.
There’s nothing wrong with hard work, responsibility, or personal agency. God calls us to be faithful stewards of our lives.
But somewhere along the way, we bought into a dangerous lie: that we should be able to handle everything ourselves. That needing help is weakness. That dependency is failure.
The result?
We end up exhausted, anxious, and secretly terrified that one day everyone will discover we don’t have it all together.
But what happens when all your control runs out? When faithfulness doesn’t lead to success, but suffering? We do everything right—pray, give, serve—and still end up in situations we can’t fix. It feels unfair, like obedience should have earned us an easier outcome.
WHERE CONTROL ENDS
The story is familiar to many of us. Daniel opens his windows, prays to God as he always has, and is promptly arrested under a new law designed specifically to trap him. King Darius loves Daniel, but can’t change the law. Everyone is powerless to alter what’s been done.
Daniel has been faithful. Obedient. He’s done everything right. And yet—he’s arrested for praying and ends up thrown into a pit, surrounded by lions. He has no human way out.
Daniel isn’t a kid in this story—he’s probably in his eighties. After a lifetime of faithfulness, he’s thrown into the darkness for doing what’s right. No reward for his years of service. No exemption for his age.
Faith begins where control ends—when you’re saying your final prayers and waiting in the dark for God to do what only He can do.
I wonder if you might be in your own version of a sealed den right now. The diagnosis came back. The relationship ended. The job disappeared. The addiction won.
You’ve tried everything you know to try. Maybe the most spiritual thing you can do right now is stop trying to climb out on your own.
The Waiting Room
What often goes unnoticed in Daniel’s story is the waiting. The stone was sealed. The den went dark. And Daniel had to wait through the entire night, surrounded by lions, with no guarantee of morning.
Scripture doesn’t tell us what Daniel did in those hours. Did he pray? Did he sing? Did he simply sit in silence, trusting God with each passing moment?
We know what Darius did—the king “spent the night without eating and without any entertainment being brought to him. And he could not sleep” (Daniel 6:18). Even the most powerful man in the empire couldn’t fix this situation. He could only wait.
There’s a profound spiritual discipline in the waiting we rarely talk about—the holy practice of acknowledging we cannot rescue ourselves.
Our discomfort with waiting reveals how deeply we believe rescue depends on us. We refresh our phones obsessively. We create backup plans for our backup plans. We lose sleep strategizing our way out. At least that’s what I do.
But some rescues can only come from beyond us.
The psalmist understood this: “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning” (Psalm 130:5-6).
The God Who Rescues
Before sunrise, Darius runs to the den and cries, “Daniel, has your God been able to rescue you?”
From the darkness comes the answer: “My God sent his angel, and he shut the mouths of the lions.”
Daniel didn’t climb out. He didn’t fight his way out. He didn’t strategize his way out. He was rescued.
And here’s the beautiful part—God didn’t just rescue Daniel for Daniel’s sake. He rescued Daniel so the world would know His name.
King Darius writes to all nations: “He is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end. He rescues and he saves... He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions” (Daniel 6:26-27).
Your rescue is part of someone else’s revelation. When you tell your story, heaven gets the credit.
Think about it: How many people came to know God because Daniel was rescued? How many heard about the God who shuts the mouths of lions?
Daniel’s impossible situation became the stage for God’s glory.
Beyond Daniel—To Jesus
Daniel’s story points beyond itself—to Jesus.
Like Daniel, Jesus was conspired against, falsely accused, condemned by rulers who found no fault in Him, and placed in a dark cave sealed behind a stone.
But where Daniel was spared from death, Jesus entered death—and walked out so you could, too.
Jesus is the true and better Daniel—the one who went into the ultimate den and faced the roaring lion of sin and death.
He was buried behind a stone.
And three days later, He came out—undefeated.
The grave is empty.
The stone is rolled away.
What This Means for Your Lions
What are the lions surrounding you right now?
Maybe it’s a financial crisis you can’t budget your way out of. A broken relationship you can’t repair with better communication techniques. A health issue that doesn’t respond to positive thinking. An addiction that doesn’t break with sheer willpower. A depression that doesn’t lift with more effort.
You’ve tried everything. You’ve read the books, followed the advice, implemented the strategies. And you’re still stuck.
Here’s what Daniel’s story teaches us: The point isn’t to be strong enough to fight the lions—it’s to trust the God who can shut their mouths.
This doesn’t mean we become passive. Daniel still prayed. He still trusted. He still showed up faithfully. But he knew his deliverance would have to come from beyond himself.
Making It Personal
What are you trying to fix that you can’t actually fix? What situation have you been white-knuckling your way through, convinced that if you just try hard enough, smart enough, or long enough, you’ll break through?
What would it look like to stop trying to be your own rescuer? Not to give up, but to give over—to acknowledge that this particular den requires a rescue that can only come from God?
Who needs to hear your rescue story? When God brings you through—and He will—who is waiting to see His glory revealed in your deliverance?
Practical Steps for the Waiting
If you find yourself in a waiting season, here are a few ways to anchor your faith while you wait.
Name your den. Be honest about the situation you can’t fix. Write it down. Acknowledge it before God.
Stop pretending. You don’t have to have it all together. The people who love you would rather have your honesty than your performance.
Practice dependence. Each day, pray a simple prayer: “God, I cannot rescue myself from this. I need You to be my Rescuer.”
Look for small rescues. God often shows His power in small ways before the big deliverance. Notice them. Thank Him for them.
Prepare your testimony. Start imagining how you’ll tell this story when you’re on the other side. How will God get the glory?
The Promise
Here’s what I’ve discovered: The God who rescued Daniel is still rescuing people today.
When you couldn’t climb out, He came down. When you couldn’t break free, He broke through. When you couldn’t save yourself, He stepped in—took your place—and opened the way.
The good news of the gospel is this: Jesus is still rescuing the people who need Him.
Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is stop trying to be strong enough, smart enough, or good enough—and simply cry out to the God who specializes in impossible rescues.
Your den may be dark. The lions may be circling. The stone may be sealed.
But morning is coming.
The God who shut the lions’ mouths for Daniel and rolled the stone away for Jesus is the same God writing your rescue story right now.
Take Action
This week, do this one thing:
Name your den—to God and to someone else.
Identify the situation you’ve been trying to fix on your own. Stop pretending you have it handled. Bring it before God and honestly pray, “God, I can’t rescue myself from this. I’m waiting for You.” Then share this struggle with one trusted person and ask them to pray for your rescue.
That’s it. Not a list of fixes. Not a new strategy. Just honest acknowledgment that you need rescue—and the courage to stop carrying it alone.
Remember, you don’t need to be strong enough to fight the lions. You just need to trust the One who can shut their mouths.
All for Jesus,
Brad D. Jenkins
P.S. — If this has been helpful, please send me a message at brad@bradjenkins.me and let me know. My writing aims to help people enjoy a vibrant relationship with Jesus, and it is an honor to be on this journey with you. To read previous newsletters or to sign up so that you don’t miss future posts, visit www.bradjenkins.me/blog.