When Fear Meets Faith
October 20, 2025
Reflections in Waiting Moments
There are moments in life when the air feels heavier — when fear sits just beneath the surface of gratitude. Today is one of those days. I’m heading in for diagnostic imaging to learn more about a lump they found in my breast.
To say I’m scared would be an understatement. I’m absolutely terrified.
For two weeks, I’ve done my best to hold on to hope — to breathe, to pray, to stay grounded in the truth that we don’t know what this is yet. It could be nothing. It could be benign. The mass could even dissolve on its own.
I’ve heard stories from women who have walked this same uncertain road — stories of cysts that disappeared, benign results that brought tears of relief, and scans that came back completely clear. Each one has felt like a lifeline in this waiting season, a gentle reminder that this could be my outcome too. I’m so grateful for those who have shared their journeys with me, because their courage gives me hope.
These are the words I’ve whispered through tears and the prayers I’ve lifted in shaky faith: Lord, please let it be nothing.
But when life feels so good — when everything you’ve prayed for is finally coming together — fear hits harder.
My children are thriving. They’re happy, healthy, and growing into remarkable little humans. My boyfriend treats me with more love and gentleness than I’ve ever known. I have a job I enjoy, friends who feel like family, and a church community that fills my soul with peace. After so many years of wilderness seasons, I’m standing in answered prayers. And that’s what makes this so hard — the thought of something threatening it all.
A Season of Becoming
Next year was supposed to be the year — a year of dreams coming true.
I’m nearing the end of my master’s program in counseling. My internship begins this coming spring, and I can hardly put into words what that means to me. This is something I’ve been working toward for years — long nights of studying, countless papers, endless self-reflection, and so many prayers whispered between deadlines.
There was a time when I never thought I could do this. I barely made it through high school, and it took nearly fifteen years to complete my four-year degree. There were detours, heartbreaks, and long seasons where I lost my confidence altogether. But God never stopped calling me forward.
Now, standing here at the tail end of my graduate program, I’m holding grades I once thought were impossible for me. I’ve only taken one semester off this entire journey. I’ve juggled motherhood, work, and school — and somehow, by His grace, I’m still standing. This has been one of the hardest and most rewarding chapters of my life.
That’s why the thought of this medical scare derailing everything makes me feel so afraid. The idea of postponing my internship or delaying graduation hurts to even imagine. I’ve fought too hard to get here.
But then I remember — God didn’t bring me this far to leave me here. He’s carried me through every detour, every diagnosis, every heartbreak before. And He will do it again.
A Love Worth Waiting For
And if my education is one answered prayer, my relationship is another.
My boyfriend and I have been talking about marriage — real, beautiful, future plans kind of marriage. We even went ring shopping recently. Though we’re not engaged yet, the thought that I could be marrying this man next year fills me with indescribable joy.
This is something I’ve prayed for my entire life — a man who leads with faith, listens with compassion, and prays with me through every storm. He treats me like a princess, but more importantly, he treats me with respect. He has shown me what love rooted in Christ truly looks like — patient, steadfast, and kind.
The way he prays for me is something sacred. It’s one thing to be loved by someone; it’s another to be covered in prayer by them. When fear tries to take hold, he reminds me of God’s promises. When I cry, his first instinct is to fix what’s wrong — to protect, to problem-solve, to make it better. But when he realizes he can’t, he simply holds me, prays over me, and stays present. In those moments, his quiet strength speaks louder than words. I feel safe, seen, and deeply loved — the kind of love that reflects God’s heart.
I’ve waited a long time for this kind of love. And I don’t want fear, or the possibility of illness, to overshadow the joy of what’s to come.
A Mother’s Heart in the Waiting
If there’s one thing that intensifies this season of uncertainty, it’s being a mom. My children are flourishing — thriving in school, growing into kind, thoughtful, and resilient humans. They make me so proud every single day. Watching them step into their own light has been one of the greatest joys of my life.
But they’ve also known loss far too young. Just last year, they lost both their grandpa and their uncle to cancer. The grief was heavy — confusing and painful in ways children should never have to understand. That’s part of why this current season feels so fragile. The last thing I want is to stir up those fears again.
I’ve made the decision not to tell them anything until I know more. I want to protect them from the uncertainty that I’m holding right now. Parenting through something like this is its own kind of ache — no one really talks about how hard it is to carry your own fear while trying to keep your children’s world steady. You smile through the dinner table conversations, help with homework, cheer at soccer games and dance recitals, all while silently praying, Lord, please let me be here for every future moment of this.
It’s not easy — holding both the weight of uncertainty and the gift of presence — but it’s worth it. Protecting their peace, even when mine feels shaken, is one of the greatest acts of love I can offer. And every time I look at them, I’m reminded why I keep praying, hoping, and choosing faith over fear.
Holding On to Hope
Maybe that’s what makes this waiting season so tender — there’s so much good ahead. So many prayers being answered, so many dreams beginning to bloom. I don’t want fear to rob me of the joy that God has placed before me.
Still, the truth is: I’m scared. I don’t want to pretend I’m not. But courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear — it means trusting God even when fear is loud.
I’ve learned that prayer doesn’t always erase the pain, but it changes how we carry it. It turns panic into peace, trembling into trust.
So today, I’m holding on — to hope, to gratitude, and to the truth that God is already in the details. No matter what happens next, He’s not done writing this story.
Because even here, in the unknown, His goodness still surrounds me.
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.” — Psalm 56:3
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” — Psalm 27:13
A Moment to Reflect
If you’ve ever walked through a season of waiting, you know how heavy the “what ifs” can feel. Fear has a way of whispering worst-case scenarios into the places where hope once lived. But faith reminds us that even when we don’t know the outcome, God already does — and His plans are always good, even when they’re hard to see.
Take a quiet moment today to reflect:
What fear are you holding right now that you need to hand back to God?
Where in your life do you see evidence of His goodness — even in the waiting?
How might you shift from worrying about what could be to thanking Him for what already is?
You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to keep showing up — heart open, faith steady, eyes fixed on Him.
Let this be your reminder: even in uncertainty, hope still grows.
Disclaimer: This reflection shares my personal faith journey and experiences. It is not professional counseling advice or a substitute for mental health care. If you’re walking through fear, uncertainty, or grief, please reach out to a trusted counselor, pastor, or healthcare provider for support.
With grace and light,
Jess
