Fear, Faith, and the Edge
There is something fascinating about standing at the edge.
A skydiver shuffles toward the open door of an airplane thousands of feet above the ground. Every instinct screams the same thing:
"Don't jump."
Yet a moment later, he does.
Not because the fear disappeared. Not because the risk suddenly vanished. He jumps because his faith in the parachute becomes greater than his fear of the fall.
A woman stands on the edge of a bridge preparing to bungee jump. She looks down at the water below and feels her stomach twist. Everything inside her tells her to step back. Instead, she takes the plunge, falling more than a hundred feet before the cord catches and sends her soaring back into the air.
Fear was present.
Faith simply became louder.
Maybe that's why we're drawn to extreme sports. Maybe that's why television networks have built entire shows around confronting fear. We love watching people push past the limits that try to hold them back. We cheer when someone faces what terrifies them and comes out stronger on the other side.
The truth is, fear isn't limited to airplanes, bridges, or dark streets.
Fear sits in boardrooms, classrooms, churches and even our homes.
It whispers questions into our minds every day.
What if I fail?
What if I'm not good enough?
What if I take the risk and everything falls apart?
For some, fear is public speaking. For others, it's failure, rejection, loss, uncertainty, or even success itself. As children, it may have been the monster under the bed or the shadow in the closet. As adults, the monsters become harder to see, but no less real.
And the strange thing about fear is that everyone faces it.
Some fears are rational. Some Irrational. Some are learned and others are imagined.
But all of them force us to stand at an edge and make a choice.
Do we retreat?
Or do we move forward?
I've always loved movies because they often take the struggles we all face and place them on a larger stage. Over the years I've drawn lessons from Superman, Star Wars, Divergent, and even Gilligan's Island.
Today, I want to talk about Batman.
Not because he is fearless.
But because he teaches us something important:
Greatness isn't the absence of fear.
It's what we choose to do when fear shows up.
Fear or Faith?
Fear has a way of showing up when we least expect it.
A new opportunity. A difficult conversation. A dream that feels bigger than our abilities. A calling that seems impossible to accomplish.
Fear is often our first response to the unknown.
As I think about fear and faith, I can't help but think about Peter stepping out of the boat in Matthew 14. It's one of the most incredible moments in Scripture, but it's also one of the most relatable. Because if we're honest, most of us have spent time in that boat.
When Fear Takes Over
The story begins right after Jesus feeds the five thousand. He sends the disciples ahead of Him in a boat while He stays behind to pray.
Night falls.
The wind picks up.
The waves begin crashing.
The disciples find themselves fighting a storm in the middle of the lake.
Then something unexpected happens.
"About three o'clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. In their fear, they cried out, 'It's a ghost!'" (Matthew 14:25-26, NIV)
Can you imagine that scene?
Twelve grown men battling a storm, already exhausted and already afraid. Then they look up and see someone walking across the water toward them.
Their first response wasn't faith.
It wasn't excitement.
It was fear.
"It's a ghost!"
I often laugh when I read this passage because I can almost picture Jesus hearing their reaction. Here He is coming to them in the middle of their struggle, and they immediately assume the worst.
But aren't we sometimes the same way?
How often does God begin moving in our lives, and because we don't recognize what He's doing, we become afraid?
A new opportunity appears.
A new direction opens.
A door we never expected begins to swing wide open.
And instead of embracing it, we hesitate because it doesn't fit our expectations.
Fear has a way of making the unfamiliar look threatening.
Courage Begins with His Presence
Before Jesus changes their circumstances, He speaks to their fear.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "Take courage. I am here!" (Matthew 14:27, NIV)
I love that.
Jesus doesn't first calm the storm.
He first calms the disciples.
The storm is still raging.
The waves are still crashing.
The wind is still blowing.
But Jesus reminds them of something greater than the storm.
His presence.
Sometimes faith isn't the absence of fear.
Sometimes faith is making the decision that fear doesn't get the final vote.
There are moments when we have to remind ourselves:
God is still here.
God is still working.
God is still in control.
The situation may not have changed, but His presence hasn't changed either.
Faith Steps Out of the Boat
Then Peter does something that separates him from the other eleven disciples.
"Lord, if it's really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water." (Matthew 14:28, NIV)
Jesus responds with one word:
"Come."
And Peter climbs over the side of the boat.
Let's pause there for a moment.
We often focus on what happens next, but don't miss what already happened.
Peter walked on water.
Before the sinking.
Before the doubt.
Before the lesson.
Peter actually walked on water.
While eleven disciples stayed seated, Peter stepped out.
Was Peter imperfect? Absolutely.
Was Peter impulsive? Most definitely.
But Peter was also willing to trust Jesus enough to leave the safety of the boat.
That's where faith begins.
Faith doesn't mean having every answer.
Faith doesn't mean having every detail figured out.
Faith means taking the next step when Jesus says, "Come."
There comes a point where fear has to stay in the boat while faith climbs over the edge.
When Fear Returns
But then the story changes.
"But when he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink." (Matthew 14:30, NIV)
What happened?
The storm didn't suddenly appear.
The wind was already there.
The waves were already there.
The circumstances hadn't changed.
Peter's focus had.
Instead of looking at Jesus, Peter began looking at everything surrounding him.
The storm that had been in the background became the center of his attention.
And isn't that what fear does?
We begin a new journey.
We step into a calling.
We pursue a dream.
We follow God into something we've never done before.
Then suddenly we start looking around.
What if I fail?
What if people don't support me?
What if I'm not qualified?
What if this doesn't work?
The waves get bigger.
The wind gets louder.
And fear starts whispering stronger than faith.
Peter teaches us something important here.
Fear doesn't always attack before you take the step.
Sometimes it attacks while you're taking it.
Faith Wins
As Peter begins to sink, he cries out:
"Save me, Lord!"
And immediately Jesus reaches for him.
Not eventually.
Not later.
Immediately.
Jesus pulls Peter up and asks:
"Why did you doubt me?" (Matthew 14:31, NIV)
Notice what Jesus identifies.
Not the storm.
Not the waves.
Not the wind.
The doubt.
The circumstances were never the real problem.
The problem was allowing the circumstances to become bigger than the One who called him out of the boat.
And while Scripture doesn't tell us every detail, I can't help but imagine Peter walking back to the boat beside Jesus.
The same water.
The same wind.
The same storm.
But now his focus is restored.
His confidence is restored.
And his eyes are back on Jesus.
Fear had its moment.
Faith had the final word.
The Battle We All Face
Every one of us will face storms.
Every one of us will face moments where fear tries to take control.
Fear will tell us we're not qualified.
Fear will tell us we're going to fail.
Fear will tell us to stay comfortable, stay safe, and stay in the boat.
But faith reminds us that God's presence is greater than our circumstances.
Faith reminds us that God is still writing the story.
Faith reminds us that the One calling us is the same One who will sustain us.
And sometimes the greatest miracle isn't walking on water.
Sometimes it's taking that first step over the side of the boat.
The Leap
Fear is a powerful motivator.
Sometimes it causes us to run. Sometimes it causes us to freeze. Sometimes it convinces us to settle for a life smaller than the one God has called us to live.
Fear can make us retreat.
Or fear can become the very thing we overcome.
That's what makes one particular scene from The Dark Knight Rises so memorable to me.
Bruce Wayne finds himself trapped in a prison unlike any other. It isn't surrounded by fences or guarded by towers. Instead, it is buried deep inside the earth. The prisoners spend every day looking up at a distant opening where sunlight pours in.
Freedom is visible.
They can see it.
They can reach toward it.
But they can't seem to get there.
There is only one way out.
Climb.
The climb itself is difficult, but that isn't the real challenge. Near the top is a massive gap between two ledges. To escape, a prisoner must make one final leap.
Many try.
All fail.
And every person who attempts the climb does so with a rope tied around their waist. A safety harness. A backup plan. Protection from the consequences of failure.
As I watched that scene, I couldn't help but think about my own life.
Because we all have walls.
We all have mountains.
We all have fears standing between where we are and where we believe God is calling us to be.
Maybe it's an addiction you've been fighting for years.
Maybe it's a painful past you can't seem to leave behind.
Maybe it's a dream you've convinced yourself is impossible.
Maybe it's a calling that feels too big.
Maybe it's simply learning to trust God with the parts of your life you've kept under your own control.
Whatever it is, we all face moments where freedom is visible, but the climb feels impossible.
Jesus said:
"If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move." (Matthew 17:20)
So what is your mountain?
What is your wall?
What is standing between you and the freedom God wants for you?
The fascinating part of the movie isn't Batman's strength. It isn't his training. It isn't how many times he tries.
The lesson comes from an old prisoner who tells him something simple:
"Fear is why you fail."
At first, that doesn't make much sense.
Fear seems like the thing that should help us survive.
Fear should make us stronger.
Fear should make us more careful.
But the old man understood something Bruce did not.
Every time Bruce made the climb, he did so with a rope attached.
Just in case.
Just in case he slipped.
Just in case he failed.
Just in case things didn't work out.
And if we're being honest, that's exactly how many of us approach God.
We say we trust Him.
We say we believe His promises.
We say we're following His plan.
But we keep a rope tied around our waist.
A backup plan.
A fallback option.
A piece of our old life we're unwilling to surrender.
A sin we keep returning to.
A comfort zone we refuse to leave.
We believe God can work.
We're just not fully convinced He will.
The old man explained that the only person who had ever escaped the prison was a child.
A child who made the climb without the rope.
No safety net.
No backup plan.
No guarantee outside of the belief that the leap had to be made.
And suddenly the lesson becomes clear.
The problem was never the wall.
The problem was never the climb.
The problem wasn't physical at all.
It was trust.
When Bruce finally makes his last attempt, something has changed. Before the climb, he packs for the journey he expects to take once he's free.
He doesn't prepare for failure.
He prepares for victory.
Then he makes the climb.
Without the rope.
And he makes the leap.
That's what faith looks like.
Faith is not a warm feeling.
Faith is not positive thinking.
Faith is not simply believing God exists.
Faith is action.
Faith is moving forward when fear is telling you to stop.
Faith is taking the step before you see the outcome.
Faith is trusting God's promises enough to act like they're true.
Proverbs 3:5-6 says:
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
Not some of your heart.
Not most of your heart.
All of it.
That means trusting Him when the mountain looks too big.
Trusting Him when the wall seems impossible to climb.
Trusting Him when your own understanding tells you to stay where it's safe.
The truth is, most of us spend our lives trying to overcome our mountains through our own strength. We focus on becoming stronger, smarter, faster, or better.
But what if the mountain was never ours to move?
What if God was simply asking us to trust Him?
Jesus said:
"Take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
The battle has already been won.
We don't have to carry the weight alone.
We don't have to conquer every wall through our own effort.
We simply have to trust the One who already has.
Last week’s post was dreams. These dreams are amazing and we all should be dreaming. But once it is plan, we struggle making the steps. Is that fear?
So today I leave you with a question.
What rope are you still holding onto?
What fear has been keeping you from the life God designed for you?
And are you willing to finally let it go?
Because faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains.
Not because of the size of our faith.
But because of the size of our God.
It's time to stop staring at the wall.
It's time to stop measuring the mountain.
It's time to stop listening to fear.
Cut the rope.
Make the leap.
And trust the Author of your story to carry you where He promised He would.
