New beginnings don’t always come with clear directions.

This post is part of the 10-part series: The Grace to Make Changes. You can read the full series here.

I used to think fear meant failure. That if I was scared, I must not be trusting God enough. But over time, I’ve learned that’s not how it works.

Some of the biggest shifts in my life have come not in the absence of fear—but right in the middle of it. Fear didn’t stop me. It started me.

Fear Can Be Holy Fuel

Hebrews 11:7 says this about Noah:

“By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear…”

That line has stayed with me.

Noah didn’t wait until he felt brave. He didn’t wait for the skies to darken or the world to believe him. He built with a warning in his ear and fear in his chest. And yet—God called it faith.

That kind of obedience doesn’t make headlines. It makes altars.

When Faith and Fear Live Together

I’ve had to make some hard decisions. Not theoretical ones—real, life-altering ones.

Right around this time, I had just received an offer letter from James Hardie for a role in Prattville, Alabama. Meanwhile, Desmond had just secured his SkillBridge placement with Boeing—in St. Louis, Missouri. Two good opportunities. Two different states. Two separate futures.

And suddenly, we had choices to make.

Was he going to take the SkillBridge and relocate to St. Louis permanently?
Was I going to move to Alabama and take this job that felt like such an answered prayer?
Were we supposed to meet somewhere in the middle?
What did compromise look like now that the stakes were higher—and the family was bigger?

I wrote in my journal:
“I feel like You have already given me a sign and an answer… But I still feel contradiction… Should I step out on faith? But faith where? In St. Louis or Montgomery?”

We had three kids to consider. Amy was about to start a new school. Lily and Milo were both still so little—still needing routine, care, and familiarity. I wondered if I should just stay in North Carolina until Desmond was settled in St. Louis and then move there. But even that wasn’t clear.

It wasn’t that we weren’t grateful—it was that we were overwhelmed.

Sometimes I’d pray:
“Lord, I don’t want to blow the chances and opportunities You’ve provided. What are the standards I’m supposed to select my choices by?”

That wasn’t weak faith. That was honest faith. And I’m starting to believe that’s the kind God honors most.

Because faith doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispers: Okay, Lord—I’ll try.

“By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear…”
—Hebrews 11:7 (KJV)

Practical

We’ve been told fear disqualifies us. But maybe fear is what wakes us up. Maybe it’s the holy tension that says: This matters. Don’t miss it.

So instead of asking, “Why am I scared?” Try asking: “What is this fear trying to move me toward?”

Fear might be part of your story—but it doesn’t have to be the end of it. Faith isn’t always fearless. But it is faithful.

Even in uncertainty, I chose to show up.

Closing Prayer

God, thank You for letting me bring all of it to You—the fear, the doubt, the longing to do what’s right. Help me move with fear, not against it. Let my obedience count even when it feels shaky. I don’t want to miss what You’ve already confirmed. I want to move—not when everything is clear, but when You have already spoken.

Make me faithful, even when I feel afraid.
Amen.