The Things That Haven’t Happened Yet

A Facebook friend of mine made a really great post the other day about the scripture regarding fear and anxiety. You don’t even have to be someone who regularly reads the Bible to have probably heard it before.

What grabbed my attention wasn’t the verse itself. It was the way she focused on the word fear.

Fear is an interesting thing because most of the time it isn’t connected to something that is happening right now. It’s connected to something that might happen.

Think about that for a minute.

Fear is an incredibly strong emotion. We’ve all felt it. Some of us feel it more often than others.

I remember much of my young adult life creating scenarios in my mind. I would imagine conversations that hadn’t happened, problems that didn’t exist yet, and outcomes that were completely unknown. I would play out entire stories in my head, and before I knew it, I was carrying the weight of situations that weren’t even real.

Eventually, I matured enough to recognize what I was doing and began to break that habit. But if I’m being honest, fear still tries to creep in from time to time.

Because there is no shortage of things to fear.

We fear sickness. We fear losing someone we love. We fear losing our jobs. We fear the end of relationships. We fear being alone. We fear never finding love. We fear betrayal. We fear our children making decisions that could hurt them. We fear failure. We fear the unknown.

The list goes on and on.

But here’s the question I found myself asking:

How many of the things we spend our time fearing have actually happened?

Not what could happen.

Not what might happen.

Not what we read about happening to someone else.

What has actually happened?

The reality is that many of the things that steal our peace today are future possibilities that may never come to pass.

Yet we allow them to occupy our minds, our prayers, our conversations, and our emotions. We sacrifice today’s joy because of tomorrow’s uncertainty.

Fear has a way of convincing us that it is preparing us.

It whispers that if we worry enough, think enough, analyze enough, and anticipate every possible outcome, we’ll somehow be safer.

But that’s not preparation.

That’s captivity.

And fear is a terrible fortune teller.

Jesus knew this about us. That’s why He repeatedly told people not to be afraid. That’s why He reminded us not to worry about tomorrow. Not because tomorrow doesn’t matter, but because today does.

God has given us this moment.

This breath.

This day.

Not next year’s problems.

Not next month’s possibilities.

Not the imaginary scenarios we’ve built in our minds.

Just today.

When we live constantly in “what if,” we miss what is.

We miss the blessings sitting right in front of us.

We miss the people around us.

We miss the evidence of God’s faithfulness that is already present.

We miss opportunities to laugh, celebrate, rest, and enjoy the life He’s given us because we’re too busy worrying about a future we cannot control.

I’ve learned that fear and faith often ask the same question:

“What if?”

Fear asks, “What if everything goes wrong?”

Faith asks, “What if God shows up?”

Fear says, “What if I lose?”

Faith says, “What if God provides?”

Fear says, “What if I’m alone?”

Faith says, “What if God is already making a way?”

The future belongs to God, not to us.

And while wisdom prepares, fear obsesses.

One brings peace.

The other steals it.

So today, maybe it’s worth asking yourself:

What am I afraid of right now?

And then ask a second question:

Has it actually happened?

If the answer is no, perhaps it’s time to place that fear back into God’s hands and return to the gift He’s given you today.

Because there is far too much life to live, joy to experience, and goodness to see for us to spend our days imprisoned by things that haven’t happened yet.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” — Matthew 6:34

Today, choose faith over fear and trust God with the things that haven’t happened yet.

With love,

Naureen