If you and I were sitting across from each other right now, coffee on the table between us, I would not start with a definition of courage. I would start with you.
I would ask where you feel stuck. Where you feel like you are standing in front of a door you know you are supposed to walk through, but your hand will not reach for the handle.
My guess is fear would show up pretty fast.
Fear of failing.
Fear of looking foolish.
Fear of letting people down.
Fear of losing what feels safe.
Most men confuse that fear with weakness. They assume if they were really strong in their faith, really mature, really called, they would not feel afraid. So when fear hits, shame rushes in right behind it, and that combination can leave a man paralyzed.
If that is where you are, hear me. You are not broken or disqualified. You are standing on the edge of something important.
That is why we need to talk about courage.
The Necessary Unknown
There is a phrase that has been rolling around in my mind. I call it the “necessary unknown.”
The necessary unknown is the space between where you are now and where you know God is calling you to be, but you cannot see every step in between. You know movement is necessary, but the future feels foggy and risky. Everything in you wants guarantees. God offers you Himself instead.
The necessary unknown is staying and fighting for your marriage when walking away looks easier.
It is confessing a hidden habit and finally bringing it into the light.
It is starting the business that has been on your heart for years.
It is leaving a safe job to follow a calling that will stretch your faith.
It is stepping up to lead when you feel more comfortable in the back row.
It is choosing to step into counseling or discipleship because doing it alone is not working.
Courage is not about loving risk. Courage is about trusting God enough to step into the necessary unknown because obedience matters more than control.
If you are waiting for a fully detailed map, don’t hold your breath. You will get a next step.
You Are Not The Only One
Sometimes it helps just to know you are not the first man to feel what you feel.
Take Joshua.
Joshua stood on the edge of the Promised Land with the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders. He had watched Moses lead. He had seen the failures of the generation before him. He knew the battles that lay ahead. And he knew he wasn’t Moses.
God does not tell Joshua, “You’re strong enough, you’ve got this, don’t be scared.”
God tells him: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
Joshua’s courage wasn’t rooted in self-confidence. It was rooted in presence.
God said, “I will be with you.”
Those words from God were his anchor.
Joshua moved forward not because he felt brave, but because he trusted the One who called him.
If Joshua needed reassurance, so will you. That doesn’t mean something is wrong with you. It means something is right in front of you.
A Story Closer to Home
I am not Joshua, but I have felt my own version of that weight.
For eight years I served as a pastor in Southwest Florida. It was a great church, a great team, a great role. On paper, it looked like the kind of job I could stay in forever. Corner office. Financial security. Influence. Stability. And honestly, I thought I would be there for a long long time.
But God began nudging our hearts in a different direction. There is always more than one reason you make a transition from somewhere like that, but at the end of the day, we ultimately knew God was calling us out of what was comfortable and into something new. Something beyond what our eyes could see. So, in 2018, we made the difficult decision to resign.
No guaranteed next step.
No detailed path.
Just a sense from God that movement was necessary.
It felt a lot like Abraham leaving a land he knew for a land “God would show him.” The necessary unknown.
Shortly after, through a series of divine moments, God led us to St. Augustine to serve with the incredible leaders at Reverb Church. But even that step took courage. It required my wife to walk away from her six-figure job so I could step into a new role here. It required selling everything. Our rental property. Our home. Most of our belongings. We pushed our chips to the metaphorical middle of the table.
I remember doing one final walkthrough before locking up our dream home for the last time and jumping in the moving truck. A beautiful cul-de-sac house with a pool, a hot tub, three car garage, a massive back deck, an incredible layout (can you tell I miss that house?). As I stood there in that empty kitchen, looking out at the back deck, tears started rolling down my face.
I didn’t cry because I was sad about leaving those things behind.
It was because I understood the weight of that moment.
That was a moment where I could have backed out.
Canceled the contract.
Unloaded the moving truck.
Stayed where it was safe.
Instead, I prayed and thanked God for the gift of living there, locked the door and got in that big moving truck. And with everyone and everything God had entrusted to me in a three vehicle caravan on I-75, we drove north to the necessary unknown (at a blistering 62 miles an hour because the truck wouldn’t go any faster).
Fear was in the truck with me.
But so was confidence.
A strange mixture of trembling and trust.
Courage is forged in the heart of a man when he faces moments like that. Moments where the question rises in your soul: “Do I have what it takes?”
Not to make it happen in my own strength.
Not to perform for God or others.
But to obey.
That moment shaped me. And if you’re standing in your own “empty kitchen moment,” feeling the weight of what obedience requires, you’re not alone.
Courage In Your Everyday Life
Maybe your necessary unknown is not a dramatic relocation or stepping into a new calling. Maybe it’s the conversation you’ve been avoiding. The risk you’ve been delaying. The spiritual step you’ve been resisting.
Courage might look like:
* Sitting down with your wife and owning your part instead of defending yourself.
* Telling a friend the truth about where you really are, not the polished version.
* Stepping up to serve or lead, even though you feel unqualified.
* Bringing your kids together and apologizing for ways you’ve been distant.
* Taking the first step toward a dream God has placed in your spirit.
Most of the time, courage will not feel like courage in the moment.
Your heart will race.
Your mind will offer excuses.
Fear will shout its opinions.
But courage answers with a different voice.
An Anchor For Your Soul
The good news is you are not left to find courage on your own.
Second Timothy 1 tells us that God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control. Fear is not from Him. The strength to move, the love that drives sacrificial obedience, the sound mind that cuts through panic, all come from Him.
Psalm 56 says, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.”
Not if. When. Scripture assumes fear.
God provides Himself.
Courage is not pretending you’re not afraid.
Courage is bringing your fear to God and moving anyway.
What’s Your First Step Into The Unknown?
So let me bring this back to you, like we are still sitting at that table.
Where is the necessary unknown in front of you right now? What is the step you know God is asking you to take?
Write it down.
Pray over it.
Ask God for the courage you do not feel yet.
Then take one step.
Not the whole journey.
Not the whole plan.
Just the next step.
The men you respect did not become courageous overnight. They became courageous by trusting God more than their fear, again and again. Do the same, and courage will grow in you too.
The future may be unknown, but your God is not. He is already in your future waiting for you there. And He will meet you in every step of courage you take.
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