
Have you ever watched someone walk on crutches?
At first, they serve an important purpose. They provide support while an injury heals. They keep us from putting too much weight on something that’s still fragile. But eventually, there comes a day when the doctor says it’s time to let them go. Time to trust the healing. Time to begin putting weight on that leg again.
I think life works the same way.
We all have crutches.
Some are obvious. Others are so woven into our daily lives that we don’t even realize we’re leaning on them anymore. They often start as something we truly need. They help us survive a difficult time, protect us after we’ve been hurt, or simply help us make it through another day. But what was once temporary can slowly become permanent if we’re not careful.
That’s when a crutch stops helping us heal and starts keeping us from growing.
I know this because I’ve had my own.
There were times after my divorce when fear was understandable. I was rebuilding my life, raising my children, trying to find work, and learning how to navigate a future that looked nothing like the one I had imagined. There were plenty of reasons to question whether I was capable of starting over.
Those feelings weren’t wrong.
But had I continued to let fear make every decision for me, I would have remained stuck in a chapter that God never intended to be my whole story.
The tricky thing about crutches is that they rarely look like excuses. More often, they sound perfectly reasonable.
We tell ourselves we’ll start the business when life settles down. We’ll work on our marriage after this busy season. We’ll finally get healthy when we have more time. We’ll become more involved at church when work isn’t so demanding. We’ll deal with our finances when we make a little more money.
Sometimes those reasons are legitimate. Life is hard, and there are seasons when simply getting through the day is enough.
But sometimes we have to ask ourselves a difficult question.
Is this obstacle still protecting me… or has it quietly become the reason I’m no longer growing?
That question has challenged me more than once because the truth is, familiar feels safe. Even when it keeps us stuck.
I see this happen every day in my work as a financial coach.
People often come to me convinced that money is the problem. They believe everything will finally fall into place once they earn a bigger paycheck, receive a promotion, or get out of debt. While those things can certainly make a difference, they’re often not the root of the problem.
I’ve watched people receive raises only to find themselves living paycheck to paycheck less than a year later. The income changed, but the habits didn’t. The emotional relationship with money didn’t. The beliefs they carried about themselves didn’t.
The crutch wasn’t their income.
It was believing that more income would solve a problem that actually required personal growth.
Money has an incredible way of revealing what’s happening beneath the surface.
Someone tells themselves they can’t save because they don’t make enough money. That may be true, but sometimes it’s easier to believe that than to examine the spending habits that drain their paycheck.
Someone else says they’ll start budgeting next month. Then next month becomes next year.
Others tell themselves they’ll invest someday, pay off debt someday, ask for the promotion someday, or finally chase the dream they’ve carried for years.
“Someday” can become one of the strongest crutches we ever lean on because it gives us permission to delay becoming the person we know we’re capable of being.
The truth is, our financial habits usually aren’t just about dollars and cents. They’re often connected to fear, confidence, identity, and past experiences.
If we soothe stress by shopping, more money usually means more shopping.
If we struggle to set healthy boundaries, we often find ourselves spending money trying to keep everyone else happy.
If we believe we’re “just bad with money,” we’ll unconsciously make decisions that reinforce that belief over and over again.
Our bank accounts don’t create those patterns.
They simply reveal them.
The same thing happens in every other area of our lives.
We stay in jobs that drain us because the unknown feels scarier than the familiar. We avoid difficult conversations because silence feels easier than conflict. We postpone taking care of our health because life is busy. We convince ourselves we’ll spend more time with God after things calm down, even though life rarely slows down on its own.
Our crutches may all look different, but they usually have one thing in common.
They keep us from taking the next step.
Please don’t misunderstand me. Some people are carrying incredibly heavy burdens. Grief, illness, divorce, job loss, caregiving, and unexpected hardships are real. This isn’t about pretending those struggles don’t exist or suggesting we should just “try harder.”
It’s about honestly asking whether the thing we’re leaning on today is still helping us heal or whether it’s quietly become the reason we’ve stopped moving forward.
One of the things I love most about Scripture is that God rarely gave people the entire plan before asking them to move. Noah built before the rain came. Abraham left home before he knew where he was going. Peter stepped out of the boat before he experienced the miracle.
Faith has never required certainty.
It has always required a willingness to take the next step.
Maybe your crutch is fear. Maybe it’s perfectionism. Maybe it’s believing you’ve missed your opportunity. Maybe it’s the story you’ve been telling yourself for years about why your finances will never change, your marriage will never improve, or your dreams are simply too far out of reach.
Whatever it is, I want to encourage you to ask yourself one simple question:
What would my life look like if I stopped leaning on this?
You don’t have to have everything figured out. And you don’t have to sprint toward the finish line.
You just have to be willing to take the next faithful step.
That might look like creating your first budget instead of avoiding your bank statements. It might mean applying for the job you’ve convinced yourself you’re not qualified for. It might mean having the difficult conversation you’ve been putting off, asking for help, going back to school, starting counseling, or simply believing that your past doesn’t have to define your future.
Small, faithful steps have a way of changing the direction of an entire life.
After all, the goal was never to spend our lives walking on crutches.
The goal was always to heal, grow stronger, and discover that with God’s help, we’re capable of standing, walking, and eventually helping someone else who’s still learning to take those first uncertain steps.








