From Tension to Trust: 5 Days of Trading Fear for Faithਨਮੂਨਾ

Picture Paul.

He’s not standing on a stage preaching to thousands. He’s sitting on a cold prison floor. Scarred, forgotten by some, unsure of how or when his suffering will end.

And yet, he’s at peace.

He’s not pacing the cell, replaying regrets, or mapping out an escape. He’s writing letters. Encouraging others. Speaking blessings over people who’ve betrayed him. Rejoicing.

This isn’t the peace of someone who got a quick answer to prayer or a clear 5-step plan.

This is the peace of someone who knows God.

Paul had been beaten, shipwrecked, stoned, and misunderstood. He carried the weight of the church’s conflicts and the burden of unanswered prayers. He longed to visit churches he couldn’t reach and saw loved ones fall away. And still, he could say with complete confidence:

“I know the One I’ve trusted in.”

That’s not theology. That’s intimacy.

Paul didn’t need to know the outcome because he knew the One writing the story. And that was enough.

That kind of trust doesn’t grow overnight. It grows in the dark. In silence. In long seasons of waiting when all we have is God’s presence—and somehow, His presence is enough.

And friend, we can live that way too.

I don’t always. Some nights, the tension sneaks back in. I lie in bed, mind racing, shoulders tight, trying to solve problems that are far too big for me.

But over time, I’ve learned a quiet, soul-settling practice. I begin walking through the alphabet, naming who God is for me, A-Z.

• A – Almighty: You have power over everything, even this problem that seems too big.
• B – Bread of Life: You will nourish me in all the empty places.
• C – Creator: You brought beauty from nothing, and you can do it again.
• D – Deliverer: You rescue right on time...

Letter by letter, truth by truth, I move from tension to trust. I never make it to Z before I start to snore.

Peace comes, not because my questions are answered, but because my heart is re-anchored in the One who never changes.

So if the tension still lingers today, don’t run from it. Pay attention to the tension. Let it remind you to return, not to striving, but to stillness. Not to worry, but to worship.

This is the invitation at the end of our journey: not to master trust, but to walk with the Master. To live in a way that says, “I don’t know what tomorrow brings. But I know Who walks with me into it.”

And that is everything.

Reflection

• What stands out to you about the way Paul trusted God in the darkest season of his life?
• When tension rises again (and it will), what would it look like for you to return, not to control, but to communion?
• How might you gently rehearse the character of God in your own daily rhythms?

Prayer
God, I want that kind of trust—the kind that anchors me even when life feels unsteady. I want to know you like Paul did. Deeply. Personally. As the One who holds everything I’ve entrusted to you. Keep teaching me to return to you, to rest in you, and to live each day in light of who you are. Amen.

Would you like help turning tension into trust—anytime, anywhere? Download your complimentary Turning Tension to Trust: A–Z Characteristics of God to gently re-anchor your heart in His unchanging presence.