Lies of the HeartSample

For many years, anxiety controlled much of my life. My fear began in childhood—I was terrified of the dark. While that may sound common for children, my fear did not lessen as I grew up. Instead, it grew with me. By the time I was in college, I was still so afraid of a dark house that the thought of staying alone overnight filled me with dread. What began as a child’s fear had taken root in my heart and followed me into adulthood.

My recovery did not begin overnight, nor did it come through sheer willpower. It began when God, through the wise counsel of my friend Nancy—the women’s director at our church—showed me the deception I had believed for years. While Scripture speaks over and over again about not being afraid, I had been convinced that fear was actually my protector. Fear became so normal to me that I trusted in it more than I trusted in God. Deep down, I thought if I was constantly anxious about something bad happening, then somehow that anxiety would prevent it from happening. I didn’t want to let go of fear because, strangely enough, it felt safer to keep it than to release it.

But the truth was this: fear was not protecting me—it was enslaving me. Fear became my default response, the lens through which I saw the world. Satan had twisted my thinking into believing that by clinging to fear, I could somehow control my life and circumstances. But that was a lie. Fear brought me no protection, no peace, and no security. It only stole joy, clouded my faith, and kept me from fully trusting in God.

With God’s grace and Nancy’s encouragement, I finally began to open my hand and ask myself: Is this fear I’m holding on to really protecting me, or is it a lie I’ve believed for too long? That question was pivotal. For the first time, I began to repent of placing my trust in fear rather than in God. Instead of silently wrestling with anxious thoughts, I started speaking out loud that God is my refuge, my fortress, and my protector. Speaking truth shifted my heart. Saying it reminded me that I had someone far stronger, far greater, and far more faithful than fear ever could be.

It wasn’t instant, and it didn’t mean I never battled fear again. But it marked the beginning of freedom. God had always been my protector—I just hadn’t trusted Him to be. Fear never once prevented anything bad from happening. Fear had no power to save me. Only God could do that.

And here is the beautiful part: He is faithful to remind us that His presence is our safety, His promises are our security, and His love is our peace. Fear does not get the final word—He does.

Reflection Question: What fear are you trusting in more than God, and how can you begin to declare His truth over that area of anxiety?