Fear has never always sounded like fear to me.
Sometimes that would have made things much easier.
If every fearful thought announced itself with:
Hello, this is Fear. Please disregard everything I’m about to say.
Wonderful. Thank you for identifying yourself. 😆
But fear can be much more convincing than that.
Sometimes it sounds responsible.
Careful.
Logical.
It can sound like preparation.
Maybe you should wait.
You need more information first.
You’re not ready yet.
You should think about this a little longer.
What if this doesn’t turn out the way you’re hoping?
None of those thoughts necessarily sound unreasonable.
In fact, depending on the circumstances, some of them could be wise.
That’s what makes discernment difficult.
Fear Has a Pretty Good Vocabulary
I’ve spent much of my professional life thinking about risk.
As an auditor, I’m trained to ask questions.
What could go wrong?
Are the appropriate controls in place?
Is there sufficient evidence?
What are we overlooking?
What needs further examination?
Those are useful questions.
Unfortunately, fear also knows how to ask them. 😆
And fear doesn’t always stop after identifying a reasonable risk.
It can keep going.
What if they misunderstand you?
What if they criticize you?
What if you try and fail?
What if you aren’t as prepared as you think?
Maybe you should wait until you’re more confident.
And because these questions sound thoughtful rather than obviously fearful, I can mistake hesitation for wisdom.
Give fear enough time and apparently she’ll prepare an entire risk assessment explaining why I should remain exactly where I am.
Supporting documentation included. 😂
But I’ve had to learn something:
Identifying risk and obeying fear are not the same thing.
Wisdom can acknowledge risk and still move forward.
What I Feel and What I Know
For years, I’ve struggled with what sometimes felt like two opposing realities.
There was what I felt.
And there was what I knew.
I could know something wasn’t true and still feel it strongly.
I could know I was capable and feel inadequate.
I could know someone else’s opinion didn’t determine my worth and still feel hurt by their rejection.
I could know I had prepared and still feel afraid.
And that used to frustrate me.
If I know this isn’t true, why do I still feel this way?
Sometimes it felt like I had to babysit my own mind just to keep my thoughts pointed in the right direction.
But I’m learning that maybe the goal isn’t to force one experience to defeat the other.
Maybe:
I feel afraid.
And:
I know fear doesn’t get to make this decision for me.
Both belong.
The feeling is real because I’m actually experiencing it.
But the feeling isn’t automatically evidence that the conclusion attached to it is true.
That’s an important distinction.
My emotions can inform me without becoming my authority.
I can listen to fear long enough to understand what it’s trying to protect me from without automatically giving it control of what happens next.
When Protection Becomes Limitation
Fear isn’t always trying to ruin our lives.
Sometimes it’s trying to protect us.
That’s why I think it can be so convincing.
If I’ve experienced criticism before, fear remembers.
If I’ve been misunderstood, fear remembers.
If something hurt, fear would very much prefer that we never experience anything remotely similar again.
Understandable.
Thank you for your concern. 😆
But protection can become limitation when avoiding discomfort becomes more important than participating in my own life.
There are things I might never have done if I required fear to approve them first.
Traveling alone.
Trying physically challenging experiences.
Sharing something I created.
Writing a book.
Publishing it.
Putting my own name on it.
Allowing people to read what I actually think.
None of those things required me to become a person who never experiences fear.
They required me to decide whether fear had presented useful information or simply another reason to stay hidden.
Wisdom and Fear Can Both Say “Wait”
This is where it gets tricky.
Because sometimes waiting is wise.
We just talked about that.
Sometimes I don’t have enough information.
Sometimes there is a legitimate safety concern.
Sometimes I need preparation.
Sometimes the Most High hasn’t instructed me to move.
So I don’t want to create another simplistic rule:
Moving = courage. Waiting = fear.
Absolutely not.
I’ve experienced moments when turning around was wiser than pushing forward.
I’ve experienced others when waiting was exactly what I needed to do.
The question isn’t simply whether I’m moving.
It’s:
What is driving the decision?
Am I gathering information because information is actually needed?
Or am I gathering information because no amount of information will ever make uncertainty disappear completely?
Am I preparing?
Or am I postponing?
Am I honoring a legitimate boundary?
Or am I shrinking to avoid discomfort?
Am I waiting because wisdom says not yet?
Or because fear keeps insisting what if?
Those answers aren’t always obvious.
That’s why discernment matters.
Fear Doesn’t Need to Disappear
I’ve also stopped expecting courage to feel like confidence.
Sometimes I know what I want to do and I’m still afraid to do it.
That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m not ready.
It might simply mean the thing matters to me.
I’ve learned quite a bit about myself by trying things before I knew how they would turn out.
Sometimes they went beautifully.
Sometimes they absolutely did not. 😆
But either way, trying gave me information that standing still couldn’t.
I couldn’t know what the experience might hold if I never gave myself the opportunity to have it.
Trying doesn’t guarantee success.
It creates possibility.
And sometimes that possibility is enough reason to take one step.
Fear can come too.
It just doesn’t get to drive.
Wilderness Reflection
Think about something you’ve been hesitant to do.
What is fear actually saying?
Don’t dismiss it immediately.
Listen.
Is there a legitimate risk you need to address?
Information you need?
A boundary you should respect?
Preparation that would genuinely help?
Then ask another question:
After I’ve addressed what is reasonable, does fear keep moving the finish line?
If every answer produces another what if, you may no longer be gathering wisdom.
You may be trying to obtain a guarantee.
And some decisions simply don’t come with one.
Consider:
What do I know, even while I feel afraid?
You don’t have to manufacture confidence.
Start there.
Scripture for the Wilderness
“What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.”
— Psalm 56:3
I’ve come to appreciate what that verse doesn’t say.
It doesn’t say:
I stopped being afraid, and then I trusted.
Fear and trust appear in the same sentence.
Both belong.
The presence of fear doesn’t automatically mean the absence of faith.
The question is what I choose to do while fear is present.
Carry This With You
Fear can be loud.
It can also be intelligent, articulate, and extremely persuasive.
It can remind me of every previous disappointment and present a compelling argument for why staying exactly where I am would be safer.
Sometimes I should listen.
Fear may point toward something that deserves my attention.
But attention is not authority.
I can examine what fear is telling me without handing it the final decision.
I can feel uncertain and still remember what I know.
I can be afraid and still trust the Most High.
I can recognize risk and still decide something is worth trying.
Courage doesn’t always silence the inner critic before we move.
Sometimes we discover that the voice doesn’t control us because we move while it’s still talking.
Fear may have submitted its findings.
But it doesn’t get to issue the final report. 😭🤣
