Faith and Fear

Faith and fear are as much opposites as they are companions. Two voices present in my heart and mind at the same time. One quietly reminds of what could go wrong, while the other encourages me to look for what can still be redeemed. These voices exist side by side, shaping my thoughts in ways that are often subtle, sometimes significant, and always very real.

There is faith in fear. The acknowledgment that fear itself is a sign of value. We fear losing what matters. We fear stepping into paths that could change us. We fear 'wrong' choices. Freedom of choice has often plagued me. But when I look at fear as a threshold to where growth can happen, somewhere within there remains a kind of faith. A belief that the risk before us is meaningful, that we are standing on the precipice of something worthy of trying. Sometimes fear is a breeding ground for a kind of faith that is more meaningful because God is at the root of it.

There is faith despite fear. This is what has encouraged my trembling hands into action, the kind that understands courage is not the absence of fear but the decision to move anyway. I remember my coach once told me that "self confidence" is really just a decision; the decision to keep showing up, to keep trying, no matter how many times I might fail. Faith is the steady before the leap, the pulse inside that beats to

Yes, I’m scared, and yes, I’m going. This faith doesn’t erase fear; it simply chooses not to be ruled by it.

And there is fear despite faith. This feels less glamorous but also very relevant. This one is the honest, human truth that even when we believe with everything in us, the unknown can still shake us. Confidence can be shaken. Determination will waver. Even the strongest faith lives alongside moments of doubt, because that is all part of this human experience.

Faith and fear. They can co-exist. Two things can be true at once.

I can stand up straight and tall because of my faith, because something in me knows that I am held, guided, capable. And I can tremble in honest fear at the same time, because something in me also knows that the world is uncertain, and my choices and reactions matter.

To live with both is not a contradiction. It is a balance. And it surely means I am alive.