Astonishing Courage

If we’re honest with ourselves, one of the biggest reasons we struggle to be astonishingly courageous is that it’s really hard to maintain hope that our courage will result in good outcomes. 

Anyone who has ever tried to ask someone out on a date knows that you can only face rejection so many times before you just stop asking. Or maybe you’ve tried to be courageous and negotiate a salary, but your boss doesn’t budge. Or you’ve tried to have courage in the face of very weighty and difficult matters – praying for an affliction or diagnosis to be healed, for a loved one to return home, or a healthy child to be born — only to see those prayers seemingly go unanswered.

True courage requires hope. It requires belief that what we’re stepping out for will be worth the risk and discomfort of ‘putting ourselves out there.’ And without that hope, courage often seems more like foolishness than faith.

Maybe the enemy is whispering this in your heart and mind today. You’ve been with us on this journey towards astonishing courage, and you’ve been preparing to take a bold step of courage tomorrow, but now, the day before, the enemy is peppering you with the same thought: you’re courage isn’t going to lead to something good.

When we find ourselves up against the enemy's lies, it’s helpful to know that Scripture provides examples of men and women, just like us, who have walked through similar valleys and faced similar lies and temptations. Take Abraham, for example.

Imagine what it would have been like to be Abraham (formerly Abram) in Genesis 12, when God seems to randomly choose him and bestows on Abraham and his family a significant and truly remarkable covenant promise. God would unconditionally provide Abraham with a land of promise, where his family lineage would go on to bless the entire world. Just a few small things, right?

The only problem? Abraham didn’t have any kids. And he was 75 years old. This wasn’t like the early chapters of Genesis, where people lived to be 600, 700, even 800 years old. Abraham was old, and he and his wife, Sarah, were past the point of realistically or healthily having children.

If you keep reading Genesis, you’ll see that Abraham (and Sarah) wrestle with this tension for the next 25 years. You read that right. From the time Abraham received the promise to the time Isaac, his first son born of Sarah, was born, 25 years passed. 

Imagine the tension, the frustration, and the pain as year after year, there was no baby boy. No promised descendant. Imagine the questions: “Did God make a mistake? We left everything to move towards this promised land, and for what? Where’s our family?” Imagine the temptation to stop hoping that their courage would ever lead to a good result.

Can you feel it? Can you sense the likely downtroddenness and exhaustion? Chances are, you’ve felt something similar to this pain in the midst of unanswered prayers.

The magnitude of this tension is what makes Romans 4 so encouraging and revelational. Look at verses 18-21:

“In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, “So shall your offspring be.” He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb. No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Maybe this is what you needed to hear today — that there is hope available, even against all the human odds. God is able to do what He promises. He is able to satisfy, redeem, heal, and reward those who courageously follow Him. 

You may not see it immediately, but we can know for sure that when we courageously live with God, He always brings us good in the end. Trust Him for that today, and push back the enemy’s lies: God will come through for you. It’s only a matter of time.

God, thank you that you never leave an act of courage unrewarded. Even when our eyes can’t see the good, help us to hope in you and your steadfast power.