Light in the Margins

Come Unto Me

On Easter Sunday my husband injured his foot. He was stepping off a curb and rolled his ankle at just the right angle and broke his fifth metatarsal. A classic basketball injury, but without the cool story or any accompanying heroics. In a walking boot, he’s been given instructions to stay off his feet as much as possible. And that… has been a challenge. He has always been the kind of person who jumps in whenever there’s work to do. Now when my daughters and I clear away the dinner dishes, we often have to shoo him to the couch to rest. He knows that resting will help him heal, but everything in him wants to keep moving. And watching him, I realized...spiritually, I’m not much different. My husband may need rest to heal his foot, but at times I need rest for my soul. And why do I resist? Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the LORD hath dealt bountifully with thee. —Psalm 116:7 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. —Matthew 11:28-30 The Invitation Matthew 11:28 is not a demand but an invitation. “Come unto me…” There is a sweet gentleness in that word, ‘come.’ As a mom, I’ve said it a hundred times. At the playground, when one of my children tumbles or gets hurt, I’ll call out, “Come here, let me see.” Sometimes they will run right into my arms for snuggles and a kiss. But other times they brush themselves off and yell, “I’m okay!” and keep playing. The invitation is there, but the comfort isn’t forced. Similarly, Christ invites the weary to come to Him, but He does not compel. He is waiting, watching, willing to comfort if we merely...come. Perhaps one of the reasons we remain weary is not because we don’t hear the Savior’s invitation, but because we continue to insist that “we’re fine.” Not for the Lazy The invitation further says, “come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden...” This isn’t a call to those who are idle or unwilling to work. Christ is extending the invitation to all those who are laboring, working, and carrying what God has called them to. The work is not the problem. All the daily tasks of life: caring for a home, serving others, and faithfully meeting our responsibilities are good. We are, as Paul says, “laborers together with God.” (1 Corinthians 3:9) If work is a good thing, then why does life feel so burdened at times? Who are the heavy laden? The Invisible Weight I would argue that the burden comes from what we add to the work. It comes when we put pressure on ourselves to do everything perfectly. When we strive not to fall behind. When we try to quietly prove ourselves capable by doing it all, feeling like we can’t afford to say no or disappoint anyone. The burden comes in the subtle belief that if I don’t keep it all together, everything will fall apart. Those loads don’t show up on a to-do list, but they are often the heaviest ones we carry. Sometimes we can go through busy seasons where we have many obligations. We might say that if anyone asks us to do one more thing, we’re going to break! Our hearts can be weighed down that way, as well. At times we are carrying so much grief, disappointment, anxiety and expectations that we think if we are asked to carry one more weight, we’ll fall apart. To a weary heart, even verses that are meant to comfort can become burdensome. Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee. —Isaiah 26:3 It’s a beautiful verse and one I have memorized. But how often have I quoted that verse at times and wondered, if I don’t feel peace, am I failing? Am I not trusting God enough? If my thoughts are scattered, maybe I’m not disciplined enough. And suddenly, what is a simple promise of peace becomes another expectation. Another opportunity where I fear disappointing the Lord. Another burden to carry. When Jesus bids us come in Matthew 11, there are no conditions. When he invites us further, “take my yoke upon you and learn of me,” that verse can feel like more weight to an already heavy heart. The Exchange But Jesus is not asking us to shoulder an additional burden. He is inviting us to an exchange. The Pharisees put burdens on the people. Satan has a burden and a yoke as the Antichrist is described in Isaiah 10. The Old Testament view of a yoke was one of bondage. The pressure to be perfect. The fear of failing. The striving and straining to prove ourselves to others. Those burdens are not from God. The invitation is simply, “come...” Jesus doesn’t say come once you’ve figure it all out. He doesn’t tell us to come only when we are calm or have gotten everything under control. As the hymn writer said, If you tarry til you’re better —You will never come at all We don’t have to prove that we can carry our burdens of life before we are deserving of rest. Christ’s yoke is an invitation to walk alongside Him and learn of Him. He doesn’t remove the responsibilities of our lives, but He can change the way we carry them. As we learn what it means to be meek and humble, what we have to do in our weakened state is replaced with His strength. We learn that we don’t have to shoulder every burden alone, striving to prove our worth. There is no yoke like Christ’s. We don’t find rest by finally figuring it all out or by doing everything flawlessly. We find rest when we lay down those weights and walk alongside Christ. When we take up His yoke in spite of our failures. When we abide in Him. While my husband’s foot is healing, rest is not something that he can do just one time and be done with. He has to remember to rest, daily. Likewise, we can’t come to Jesus for rest one time and be completely satisfied. We must come back, intentionally, time and time again. O what peace we often forfeit,O what needless pain we bear,All because we do not carryEverything to God in prayer. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lightinthemargins.substack.com [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

The Abomination in My Kitchen

As always, you can listen to me read this aloud, just by clicking ‘play’ above.^ The other day I had purchased a three pound package of ground beef and began dividing it up to freeze in one pound portions. The kitchen scale I use is a few decades old, but I’ve always assumed it to be reliable. I eyeballed a handful of meat, put it in the bag, and weighed it—15.7 ounces. Perfect. Another bag, another handful—15.4 ounces. And then I looked at what was left in the package and said to myself...there is no way that is a pound. Sure enough, it came out to ten ounces or so. I was so annoyed! ‘How could the store cheat me like that,’ I thought! Then I weighed my first bags again ... and suddenly one weighed more than a pound. The other weighed 12 ounces. In fact, all three bags began reading differently. Clearly, my scale was lying to me. So I scribbled “Prov 11:1” on my bags, sealed them up and froze them anyway. A false balance is abomination to the Lord but a just weight is his delight. —Proverbs 11:1 An abomination is something extremely disgusting, reprehensible, something to be rejected and refused. In Bible times, scales or balances were used to weigh things in the marketplace, just the same as we use today. There is a presumption of integrity on the part of a shopkeeper. He is the Rock, his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he. —Deuteronomy 32:4 God is a God of truth. And a dishonest scale is something that He outright refuses. Before I go further, I want to make clear that the Lord God is righteous and holy. Before a person can be saved they must first see their true nature, as a sinner. I don’t intend to condone sin with anything that I’m about to say. But as a saved child of God, I began to wonder, do I have false balances in my own life? We understand this idea instinctively when it comes to the kitchen scale. We want accuracy. We assume honesty. We want to know what is actually there, not a fluctuating, unreliable number that changes moment to moment. And what changes moment to moment in my heart? My estimation of my worth. I am by nature a very self-critical person. I put my life on the balances. A small mistake can become like lead.A passing comment sticks to me and weighs me down.A doubt or a struggle becomes a verdict. I place all my self-perceived faults on one side of the scale, and I do not stop them from outweighing everything else. I justify my internal criticism. I say I’m “maturing” because I can quickly recognize my pride, my impulsiveness, and my selfishness. I think of myself as “discerning.” But all the discernment in the world is of no worth if I lay it on a false balance and allow my self-condemnation to weigh me down and burden my mind. Even the truth must be rightly measured, or it becomes distorted. Scrutiny can become heavy and exhausting. In John 8, a woman was brought before Jesus. She was exposed, condemned, and surrounded by accusers ready to throw stones and deliver swift execution. And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in adultery; and when they had set her in the midst, They say unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou? —John 8:3-5 The men who brought her were not wrong. The command was clear. She who committed adultery must be put to death. There were no loopholes. No excuses. The law showed no mercy. They each gripped a stone, ready to hurl. But what did the Lord Jesus Christ do? He ignored them and stooped down, writing on the ground. In the midst of their fury, He was calm. As they focused on the law, He brought grace. For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.— John 1:17 Jesus said, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” As he continued writing on the ground, one by one, her accusers left. The tumult quieted. And suddenly, the woman who had been surrounded by punishing voices— stood alone. [H]e said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more. —John 8:10, 11 He did not deny the truth of her sin, but he gave her something the law could never bring. He gave her mercy and grace. He refused to let her accusers have the final word. I see myself in that passage. Not only as the woman, but as the one holding a stone. How often have I have dragged myself into the court of my own mind and railed accusations at myself? “Why did you say that?”“What is wrong with you?”“You should know better by now.” I have sat as judge, jury and executioner. And I have an eager co-counsel. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: — 1 Peter 5:8 Satan, the accuser of the brethren, is swift to bring to mind past sins and regrets. He is quick to point out my missteps, waiting at the ready to hale me into my courtroom of self-condemnation. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it. — John 8:44 Satan is the father of lies. The king of the false balance. He is very precise at measuring out what is lacking in me, but very careless when counting up what the Lord has given. And when I take a real flaw and magnify it, giving it more weight than it deserves...When I ignore spiritual growth, or the steady work and grace of God...I’m unbalanced. Likewise, if I look at someone else’s life and measure it against my own, I am unbalanced. On casual glance, we can’t see the full weight behind someone’s life. It isn’t accurate to just examine a polished, curated exterior without considering the heartaches, struggles, or burdens that come alongside it. ...a false balance is not good. —Proverbs 20:23 It sounds so simple, but so profound. When our measurements are off, everything that follows will be wrong. Our perspective.Our self-esteem.Our contentment. So what do we do? We go back to what is true. God’s Word is true and never changes. For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.—Psalm 119:89 And in His Word, I see the truth of who I am. Yes—I am a sinner. But there is also truth about God’s grace, and about forgiveness. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. — 1 John 1:9 And with that forgiveness, there is no more accusation. There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. — Romans 8:1 Those are just weights. Not the fluctuating measurement of my own emotions. Not my inner critic. Not Satan’s accusations. God’s Word is true. When I examine myself, at times it can be like my malfunctioning kitchen scale. The numbers never stay the same. One moment I feel confident, the next I feel like a failure. One comment can lift my spirits, and another sends me into a doom spiral. False balances. So when I find myself picking up stones again, rehearsing mistakes, condemning myself, I have to stop and ask: Is this true? Or have I gone back to that broken scale? I’d like to leave you with this verse: O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. —Song of Solomon 2:14 You are hid in Christ. He wants to hear your sweet voice, and see your beautiful face. He’s not looking down with a scowl, angry at every misstep. He sees you with compassion and love. He delights in truth. And His truth should leads us to repentance, forgiveness, and the reminder that God’s grace far outweighs the crushing weight of our own self-critic. I pray this was an encouragement. Would you consider sharing it with a friend? If you’re new here, I publish weekly devotional thoughts for women. If you subscribe, they can be delivered right to your email. Thanks for reading. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lightinthemargins.substack.com [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Too Full to Open Wide

My kids can be bottomless pits at times. No sooner than we have finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen when one will wander in asking for a snack because they’re “hungry.” Then there are times we sit down to dinner and they don’t want to eat—either because they filled up on snacks before dinner, or because they don’t like what I’ve prepared. As a mom, it doesn’t really bother me if my children are still hungry after eating dinner, so long as they ate dinner. They’re growing and their hunger is just a sign of life. Last week I wrote about having a place at God’s table [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com/p/a-seat-at-the-table]. This week I want to ask: do we come that table hungry or full? Do we gladly eat whatever He has set before us? The full soul loatheth an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet. Proverbs 27:7 How could anyone loathe honey? To loathe is not just a preference, it is an intense dislike or disgust. Honey is naturally sweet. I know all my healthy friends will substitute honey for sugar in recipes, and that’s nice. It’s also nice to drizzle that honey on a warm, buttery biscuit... But I digress. Honey is something you would expect anyone to like. But the Bible says it is possible to be so full that even something as sweet as honey can be disgusting. So what changed? It wasn’t the honey. It was something inside of us. The fullness. Even when we have eaten a filling dinner, my husband will almost always have room for a little dessert. So I have to ask myself as I read Proverbs 27:7—when I come to the Lord, am I full or hungry? When Elimelech and Naomi left Bethlehem Judah, they appeared to be hungry--literally. There was a famine and they went to sojourn in Moab. But in verse 21 of Chapter 1, Naomi says “I went out full..” (Ruth 1:21) It is possible to be full in a way that has nothing to do with food. To have a heart full of my own thoughts, my own expectations, my own pride. It is possible to be full of self. We use that phrase— “He’s full of himself.” We can be like the church in Laodicea and feel like we “have need of nothing.” (Revelation 3:17) We can be sitting at the Lord’s table and not be enjoying all the blessings He has richly provided for us because we are full. So full that not even dessert sounds good. So full that we think we do not need the Lord’s provisions. For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul will goodness. —Psalm 107:9 Are we longing to be filled by the Lord or have we quietly come to a place where we are full and need nothing? At times that may be true, but what if we don’t want what is on the table, not because we are full, but because we are afraid? I am the Lord thy God...open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it. —Psalm 81:10 When I read this, I think of when my children were just learning to eat solid food. “Open wide,” we would say. And like little baby birds, they would open their mouths and eat almost anything I put in front of them...until they had something sweet. Once they had a bite of pears or banana or apple, it was hard to get them to take another bite of strained peas. I don’t blame them—they didn’t understand why, they just knew what tasted better. Sometimes I wonder if we approach God’s table with a similar hesitation. There was a time in my life when I came to God very hopeful, wanting to receive whatever He had for me. In 2011, I prayed for the blessing of twins and to my delight, God answered that prayer. I spent weeks full of hope and joy knowing that the Lord had heard me. I was eating honey. The risks were clear, but I was hopeful.Then, the complications began—but I was still so hopeful.And then, Rebekah and Rachel were gone. And my hope was replaced with sorrow and confusion. I had tasted bitterness. That kind of loss doesn’t just hurt in the moment. It changes the fabric of your heart. It changes how you view God. Just like tasting bitter vegetables made my children skeptical of what was coming on the next spoon, I became skeptical of what the Lord was going to serve me next. So later, when I was blessed with twins again in 2019, my heart had real joy and hope, but it wasn’t the same kind of easy, unbounded happiness. There was a part of me that held back for fear that my sweet joy would turn to bitterness again. And then I return to Proverbs 27:7:...to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet. God promises to fill me—with joy and peace, with knowledge and comfort, with the Holy Spirit and the fullness of God. But first, I have to open my mouth—wide. Job said, “What? Shall we receive good at the hand of God and shall we not receive evil?” (Job 2:10) He promises to fill me—but I don’t get to decide what’s on the spoon. Sometimes it is sweet.Sometimes it is bitter. But if I believe that God loves me—if I trust that He cares for me and does good things—then I stay at His table, I keep asking to be filled, I keep receiving. Even when I do not like the taste. Even when I do not fully understand what He is doing. Because I can cling to Romans 8:28—And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. To the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet. Thou art good, and doest good; teach me thy statutes.—Psalm 119:68 Like the song says about God— He is “always, only good.” I think of my children, how easily they will come back to the kitchen asking for more. They don’t fear whether there will be enough, or worry whether I will give them something harmful. They come back to the table, trusting that they will be fed. They eat their veggies, however reluctantly, trusting that I have their good health in mind. I think that’s what the Lord asks of us. Not to strive to understand everything.Not to control what is given.Not to come only when we are sure we will like what’s on the plate. But to come “open wide”. To come hungry, not full of our selves and our own ambitions. To stay at His table and trust His hand, filling us, even when we don’t like or understand what He is placing before us. The fear of the Lord tendeth to life: and he that hath it shall abide satisfied... —Proverbs 19:23 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lightinthemargins.substack.com [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

A Seat at the Table

Last week I shared about how David believed a lie [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com/p/when-david-believed-his-fear] that he was sure to die at Saul’s hand. Sometimes our imaginations, fears and anxieties get the better of us. If we don’t challenge those thoughts, they can grow loud. Recently, I attended a bridal shower and through a series of small, ordinary events, I found myself at a table I never expected to be at. I was seated with women who were older than me, women whom I respected and admired, women who carried a position and presence. I felt completely out of place. During the luncheon, I barely spoke. I was nervous. I felt like I didn’t belong there. At one point, I caught myself wishing I could simply disappear or crawl under the table. As I reflected back on that moment, I am almost ashamed of how self-conscious I was that day. My anxiety of the moment had taken control. But what was the truth? I had been given a seat. No one asked me to leave. I had a place at that table, even if I didn’t feel like it. I thought about this as I read the story of Mephibosheth. King David wished to show kindness to one of Saul’s house. He was told about Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son, who was lame on his feet. David sent for him and told him: “thou shalt eat bread at my table continually.” (2 Samuel 9:7) The king’s command is repeated so often that it caught my attention— “Mephibosheth...shall eat bread alway at my table.” (9:10)... “Mephibosheth...shall eat at my table, as one of the king’s sons.” (9:11) “Mephibosheth dwelt in Jerusalem: for he did eat continually at the king’s table...” (9:13) Dear friend, remember how I said I wished I could “crawl under the table”? That phrase carries more meaning than we realize. “Under the table” is a place of humiliation. In Judges chapter 1, the Canaanite king Adoni-bezek is captured and had his thumbs and big toes cut off. In verse 7 he said: “Threescore and ten kings, having their thumbs and their great toes cut off, gathered their meat under my table: as I have done, so God hath required me.” But Mephibosheth was not humiliated, he was given a seat at the king’s table. I wonder if he felt out of place at times. The Bible doesn’t say, but we do know that he sat there continually. Mephibosheth had done nothing to earn his seat. He was humbly living an ordinary life when King David called for him and began providing for him. He sat there as one of the king’s sons, not because of who he was, but because of who had placed him there. King David’s table would have been richly furnished. When Queen Sheba saw King Solomon’s table she was so impressed “there was no more spirit in her.” (1 Kings 10:5) The provisions were made so that “they lacked nothing.” (1 Kings 4:27) There was nothing Mephibosheth had to do but receive the blessings of the king. Like Mephibosheth, we did not deserve to sit at the King’s table. We are sinners, lame on our feet and unworthy of coming before a Holy God. Through Jesus Christ, God gave us salvation and grace abundant. None of us deserve the blessings of God. But when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ. —Galatians 4:4-7 Some times we may be called to do something we are unsure about. We may be asked to serve in a way that causes us to feel uncertain in our abilities. We may find ourselves ‘seated’ with those with whom we feel like we don’t belong, or feel like we don’t deserve to be where we are. Those doubts begin creeping in, obscuring the facts. The truth is, our belonging isn’t always determined by how we feel or what we think we deserve. Consider these verses— Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. —Psalm 23:5 Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not highminded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy; —1 Timothy 6:17 The Psalmist said that God prepares a table for us—in the presence of our enemies! He provides all things for us. If you are a saved child of God, you are a child of the King! You sit at the table He has prepared for you. Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. —1 John 3:1 Mephibosheth did not seat himself at the table.The king placed him there. If the King has given you a place, your presence is not a mistake. Don’t doubt where God has placed you. Enjoy the table He has prepared and all the things He has given us richly to enjoy. The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it. —Proverbs 10:22 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lightinthemargins.substack.com [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

When David believed his fear

Everyone is looking at me...I don’t know what I’m doing...Someone else could do this better...I don’t belong here... Do your thoughts ever sound like that? Struggling with self-confidence and doubt is common, even for women who appear to be confident or capable. Sometimes our fears are just loud. But before we run off to YouTube or Google how to be more confident, let’s look at Gods Word. Not only does the Bible give us examples of people who chose faith over fear, but there are also stories of those who believed their doubts and fears. 1 Samuel 27 opens by saying: And David said in his heart, I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul: there is nothing better for me than that I should speedily escape into the land of the Philistines... When I come to this chapter, I want to argue with David. Get a hold of yourself! This is the same man who faced Goliath with a sling and unshakable confidence in God. He had already been anointed king. God had delivered him over and over again. But here we see David had a thought in his heart that he believed to be true. And that one thought was louder than anything God had said or done in David’s life. And David followed it. He defected to Achish and began living among the Philistines. He was living a double life of sorts—invading enemies like the Amalekites and Geshurites—while letting Achish believe he was attacking Judah. He was so convincing that verse 12 tells us “Achish believed David saying, He hath made his people Israel utterly to abhor him...” All of that came from a single fear that David accepted as truth. We do the same thing sometimes. Have you ever walked into a room and thought “hmm…they don’t really like me, I don’t really belong here, I should keep quiet”? And instead of examining the thoughts and asking—is this true? We begin to adjust. We pull back. We stay quiet. We protect ourselves. Our minds are wired for survival. Subconsciously, we’re constantly scanning for threats, even emotional and social threats, and we respond, often without ever realizing it. Not every thought we have about ourselves is true. But to overcome those doubts we have to examine our thoughts. Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;— 2 Corinthians 10:5 I think when we read that verse we overlook how serious the word “captivity” really is. Captives do not go down without a fight. Captives are apprehended, captured, arrested, imprisoned—those words paint a much more vivid picture of what I am instructed to do with my thoughts. I am to grab hold of every thought and bring it into line with what the Word of God says. David didn’t examine his fears, he accepted them as truth, and he allowed those fears to guide him. He began trying to survive in his own strength. Now Esther is a Bible example of fear that feels a bit more relatable. Unlike David, I don’t see where she had a clear calling on her life. There hadn’t been a prophet anointing her, telling her she would be an advocate to save her people from genocide. Her Uncle Mordecai could see that she was “come to the kingdom for such a time as this.” But for Esther, it wasn’t just uncomfortable for her to go in unto King Ahasuerus, it was risky! She could have been put to death if the king didn’t extend his golden sceptre. I imagine everything in her mind was tense with fear saying “don’t do this!” But while she did not have certainty, she did have a strong faith that allowed her to say “if I perish, I perish.” In the face of her fear, Esther took counsel from her uncle Mordecai and took time for prayer and fasting. She didn’t ignore her fear, she just refused to let it lead her. (For we walk by faith, not by sight: ) —2 Corinthians 5:7 Faith does not remove the fear. Faith trusts God in the face of fear. Now when David was at his best, he lived this way too. When faced with Goliath, David rehearsed the times God had protected him and boldly came to the giant in the name of the Lord. But I appreciate that the Bible includes the side of David that gave into his fear. It helps me to not feel alone in my own doubts. The world is full of instruction on how to eliminate our fears and build confidence in our selves. The world’s advice would say that confidence comes after action. And in the Bible, obedience usually comes before clarity. David didn’t wait to feel like a giant killer—Esther didn’t wait until she had certainty—Sometimes like Peter, we have to step out of the boat in faith. When we obey God, our trust and our faith will grow. When I am in a weakened state of fear, I have an opportunity to put my faith in God and trust in His strength. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:10— When I am weak, then am I strong. The goal shouldn’t be to eliminate fear and never feel hesitation. The goal is to be dependent on God and not to let fear decide. Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. —Philippians 4:8 Fill your mind with thoughts that are true about yourself, grounded in God’s Word. Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. —Proverbs 3:5 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lightinthemargins.substack.com [https://lightinthemargins.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]