Corrie Ten Boom once stated, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer. ”
May we always remember that we can and should trust in our God no matter how dark the tunnel.
When Fear Creeps In: Learning to Anchor My Heart in God’s Peace
A reflection on fear, trust, and the comfort of Scripture
Fear.
Not just anxiety.
Not just stress.
Not just a passing moment of nervousness.
But fear—deep, gripping fear—has, at times, been the overriding emotion in my life.
Fear has shaped my decisions, my silence, my words, and my hesitations.
It has caused me to step into things I shouldn’t have—and to back away from things I was called to.
It’s insidious.
It creeps in slowly, slyly—until I suddenly realize it has overtaken me.
And the truth is, fear takes many forms.
Sometimes it’s the fear of death.
Sometimes it’s the fear of failure.
Sometimes it’s the fear of what others will think or how they’ll respond.
Sometimes it’s the fear of the unknown—and sometimes, it’s the fear of what I know all too well.
But ultimately, it’s not the source of fear that matters most.
It’s what we do with it.
Fear Is a Natural Response—Until It Isn’t
Fear, in its truest form, is a God-given emotion.
It’s the internal alarm system that sounds when danger—real or perceived—is near.
Fear can protect us. It’s a necessary survival mechanism.
But when fear becomes chronic, when it shifts from helpful caution to anxious obsession, when it starts whispering what ifs and worst-case scenarios—it becomes bondage.
And that’s not what God intends for us.
Fear is not meant to be a prison.
So what do we do when fear shows up and refuses to leave quietly?
When I’m Afraid, I Turn to Truth
There are several Scripture passages I return to again and again when fear starts to take over. These verses have anchored me in some of the darkest and most uncertain moments of my life—reminding me that God is present, that He is trustworthy, and that I am never alone.
“Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7
When my husband was battling cancer in 2000, this verse became a lifeline. The little chorus “Cast all your cares upon Him” played on repeat in my heart. It reminded me that the same God who had cared for me before would continue to do so—faithfully, tenderly, completely.
In Matthew 14, Jesus calls Peter to step out of the boat and walk toward Him on the water. Peter obeys—but then he looks at the wind and becomes afraid. He starts to sink.
“Lord, save me!” he cries. And Jesus immediately reaches out and catches him.
The moment Peter shifted his focus from Jesus to the storm, fear took over. I try to remember that when my mind begins to spiral. The solution is always found by looking to Christ—not the chaos.
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things.” — Matthew 6:34
Fear loves to live in the future. It thrives on hypotheticals. But God invites me to stay in today. To deal with what’s in front of me and trust Him to handle tomorrow.
“You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” — Isaiah 26:3
When I notice my thoughts spiraling into fear, I gently bring them back to God. His character. His promises. His presence. Peace doesn’t come from having all the answers—it comes from knowing Who holds the outcome.
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God…” — Philippians 4:6–7
There’s something powerful about bringing fear into the light of prayer. It’s not about saying all the right words—it’s about opening my heart and letting God meet me there. Peace follows—not always immediately, not always easily—but it comes.
“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him I will trust.’” — Psalm 91:2
When fear presses in, I remind myself that I have a refuge. I have a hiding place. I have a God who defends, shelters, and strengthens me—no matter what the storm looks like.
Learning to Live Free
I wish I could say that I’ve mastered the art of living without fear. I haven’t.
But I am learning.
I’m learning to notice when fear starts to rise.
I’m learning to turn my heart back toward truth.
I’m learning that even when fear shows up, it doesn’t get to stay in charge.
God never asked me to be fearless.
He just asked me to trust Him more than the fear.
So today, if fear is creeping in—whispering its lies, tightening its grip—remember this:
You are not alone.
You are not powerless.
And you are not without peace.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?”
(Psalm 27:1)
Running With Endurance: The Race Set Before Us
A reflection on Hebrews 12:1–2 and the faith that sustains us
When I first became a Christian, God gave me two verses that have remained my foundation through every season of life. They were among the first I ever memorized, and I still quote them to myself—especially in moments when I feel like I’m growing weary in doing good.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race set before us,
fixing our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith…”
— Hebrews 12:1–2
These verses have walked with me through heartache and hope, joy and fatigue, certainty and confusion. And recently, I’ve found myself returning to them again, meditating on what it really means to run the race—and to run it well.
Surrounded by Witnesses
Chapter 11, just before this passage, is often called the “Hall of Faith.” It’s filled with stories of men and women who trusted God through impossible circumstances. That’s the “cloud of witnesses” Hebrews 12 refers to—not just spectators, but fellow runners who have already finished their race. They aren’t distant observers; they are living reminders that it can be done.
They’ve run with endurance.
They’ve kept the faith.
And now they cheer us on.
What Must Be Laid Aside
Running well requires discipline. The writer of Hebrews points out two specific things we need to “lay aside”:
The Greek word used here means to strip off—like an athlete removing anything that would slow them down. It’s not necessarily sin—it’s anything that weighs us down or holds us back. Distractions. Unhealthy attachments. Misplaced priorities. Anything that keeps us from running freely.
These weights might be subtle. But over time, they become burdens we were never meant to carry.
Sin clings. It trips us up, distracts us, and pulls our focus. The imagery here is powerful: loose fabric around a runner’s legs, flapping and tangling, making every step harder. If we want to run with freedom, we must be willing to face and release the sin that keeps us stuck.
Running With Endurance
This is where I confess: the hardest part for me is not the starting. It’s the staying.
The running with endurance.
The Greek word for endurance (hupomone) means perseverance, fortitude, and constancy. It’s not passive—it’s active, gritty, and grounded. It’s the kind of patience that gets back up, again and again, even when the finish line feels far away.
I often think of the phrase “true grit” when I read this passage. That steady, stubborn faithfulness that keeps going even when the path is hard.
Eyes on Jesus
We don’t run alone.
We don’t run blindly.
We run with our eyes fixed on Jesus—the One who started this race, and the One who will see it through.
He is the Author and Finisher of our faith.
He ran this race perfectly.
He endured the cross, despising its shame, for the joy that was set before Him—the joy of reconciling us to the Father.
Jesus didn’t just run the race—He marked the path.
He shows us how to endure with hope. How to obey with joy. How to suffer with trust.
When Life Feels Heavy
Let’s be honest: life can feel overwhelming.
The pressures around us are real.
Living a life of faith in today’s world can feel harder with each passing year.
But this passage reminds us that there is a race set before each of us.
A race specifically designed—marked out—for our journey.
And we have everything we need to run it well:
A cloud of faithful witnesses cheering us on.
A Savior who has gone before us.
A Spirit who strengthens and sustains us.
A crown of glory waiting at the finish line.
So Today…
If you’re weary, keep running.
If you’ve stumbled, get back up.
If you’re distracted, refocus your eyes on Jesus.
If you’re carrying extra weight, ask Him what you need to lay down.
You don’t have to run in your own strength.
You don’t have to finish first.
You just have to keep running.
He’s already run ahead.
He’s waiting at the end.
And He’s with you every step along the way.
Run with Patience 