Fear Isn’t Just a Feeling

I have a confession to make.

One of the biggest struggles in my life isn’t doubt, or pride, or even control —
it’s fear.

And for a long time, I didn’t think of fear as a sin.
I thought of it as a personality trait. Or a weakness. Or something I just had to manage.

But lately, God has been showing me something deeper.

I was reading Deuteronomy 3:2 (CJB), and it says:

“Adonai said to me, ‘Don’t be afraid of him; for I have handed him, all his people and his territory over to you; you will do to him as you did to Sichon king of the Emori, who lived at Heshbon.’”

That stopped me.

God didn’t suggest courage.
He commanded it.

And I found myself wondering — how did Moses do that?
Did he just decide, Okay, I won’t be scared anymore?

Because if you back up one verse, you see what they were facing:

“Og the king of Bashan came out against us with all his people to fight.” (Deut. 3:1)

King Og wasn’t just another enemy.
Later in the chapter we learn he was a giant — literally. A remnant of the Rephaim.
His kingdom included sixty fortified cities.

This wasn’t a small threat.
This was overwhelming.

And yet God says, Don’t be afraid.

That’s when it hit me.

God isn’t commanding a feeling.
He’s commanding a response.

The Hebrew word for “afraid” here is yare (יָרֵא).
And while it can include fear, it’s not about what you feel —
it’s about how you act.

In other words:
Don’t let fear be the thing that drives your decisions.

That reframed everything for me.

Because I feel fear all the time.
But the problem isn’t that I feel it —
it’s that I so often act from it.

And when I act from fear, something subtle but serious happens.

I start living like it’s my job to protect myself.
To provide for myself.
To make sure things don’t fall apart.

And without realizing it, I start treating me like god.

When I say, I can’t afford to obey you right now —
I’m saying I trust my math more than His promises.

When I say, I can’t do what you’re asking; it’s too risky —
I’m saying I believe the threat in front of me is bigger than God.

I don’t mean to…
but that’s what fear does.

Not the feeling — the action.

Acting from fear pulls me out of obedience.
And obedience is where covenant lives.

When I step out of obedience, I step out of trust.
I become my own covenant head, trying to hold everything together.

And if I’m honest — I’ve done that more times than I can count.

I’ve let fear paralyze me.
I’ve let it dominate my thinking.
I’ve made decisions I regret because I wanted safety more than faithfulness.

And God has been gently — and sometimes firmly — showing me that fear, when acted on, isn’t neutral.

It’s a refusal to trust who He says He is.

Which brings me to another word that’s been undoing me lately.

The Hebrew word shema (שָׁמַע).

It means hear.
But it also means obey.

In Hebrew thought, those two ideas are inseparable.
If you truly hear, you obey.
If you don’t obey, you didn’t really hear.

There’s no category for:
I hear you, God, but I can’t do that right now.

Obedience isn’t optional in covenant.
It’s the response relationship requires.

And here’s the beautiful part — the part that gives me hope.

Every time I obey, even when I’m scared, my trust grows.
And as my trust grows, obedience gets easier.

It becomes a cycle:
Obedience builds trust.
Trust fuels obedience.
And faith forms in the middle.

But it has to start somewhere.
And it doesn’t start with feelings.

It starts with obedience.

So this is me preaching to myself as much as anyone else:

When fear shows up — and it will — don’t let it drive.
Remember who God has been.
Remember what He’s promised.
Remember whose covenant you’re under.

Listen for His voice.
And act on it.

Even if your hands are shaking.

Because God has never failed to protect or provide for those who trust Him.

And He won’t start with you.