A Morning That Seemed Ordinary
That morning began like many winter mornings. The sky was heavy, the roads were covered with layers of snow and ice, and the news was filled with reports of car accidents and dangerous driving conditions. As a mother, my heart immediately leaned toward protection. I looked at my son and felt a deep desire to keep him safe.
I encouraged him to contact his workplace and ask if he could stay home and work remotely. It felt responsible. It felt wise. It felt loving. In fact, I was completely convinced—100 percent certain—that this was the right thing to do.
After all, wasn’t this what a caring and discerning mother should do? Why risk an accident when technology allows him to work safely from home? Everything about the situation appeared logical, reasonable, and justified.
And yet, only a few minutes later, something stirred within me.
The Gentle Question of the Lord
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t condemning. It wasn’t dramatic. It was simply a question—quiet, clear, and piercing:
“Is this wisdom… or is this fear?”
That question stopped me in my tracks.
At first, I resisted it. My mind immediately rose to defend my decision. I listed all the reasons why staying home made sense. The weather forecast. The icy roads. The accidents reported on the news. The responsibility of a mother to protect her child.
Everything pointed toward wisdom.
But the Lord was not asking about logic.
He was asking about the source.
Was my encouragement truly rooted in His wisdom, or was it rooted in my own fear—fear that had cleverly dressed itself as prudence?
Digging Beneath the Surface
I decided to pause and be honest before God. Truly honest. Not the surface-level honesty that justifies itself, but the kind of honesty that searches the deepest places of the heart.
As I sat with the Lord and allowed His light to search me, layer by layer, something uncomfortable began to emerge.
I saw fear.
Not fear that was obvious or dramatic, but fear that was subtle and persuasive. Fear that sounded reasonable. Fear that hid behind responsibility. Fear that whispered, “This is wisdom.”
And that realization hurt.
It hurt because not long ago, I had made a firm decision before God: I would no longer make decisions based on fear. I wanted to live led by faith, not by anxiety. By trust, not by control. By discernment, not by worry.
Yet here I was.
I had failed.
The Pain of Seeing the Truth
When the Holy Spirit reveals truth, it often comes with both clarity and sorrow. I felt bad—not because I had encouraged my son to stay home, but because I had acted without first seeking the Lord’s guidance.
The decision itself could have been good. Staying home could have been perfectly acceptable. The action was not the issue.
The heart behind it was.
I realized I had listened more attentively to the weather forecast than to the voice of God. I had trusted news reports more than divine discernment. I had reacted quickly instead of praying first.
Fear had spoken before faith had a chance.
When Fear Looks Like Wisdom
This moment led me to reflect deeply on how often this happens—not only in my life, but in the lives of many believers.
How many times do we give advice, make decisions, or take action fully convinced that we are being wise, when in reality, fear is the quiet motivator behind it all?
Fear can be incredibly convincing. It knows how to quote statistics. It knows how to reference experience. It knows how to sound mature and responsible.
Fear says:
- “You should be careful.”
- “You can’t take that risk.”
- “It’s better to be safe.”
- “What if something goes wrong?”
And none of those statements sound sinful.
Yet Scripture tells us clearly:
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)
Fear does not come from God. Discernment does.
The Difference Between Discernment and Fear
Discernment is birthed from intimacy with God.
Fear is birthed from the need to control outcomes.
Discernment listens.
Fear reacts.
Discernment waits.
Fear rushes.
Discernment trusts God with what we cannot control.
Fear tries to manage what belongs to Him.
I realized that morning that I had acted quickly, confidently, and convincingly—yet without first asking the Lord a simple question:
“Lord, what do You say?”
A Missed Pause
Looking back, I see it clearly. I should have paused. I should have prayed. I should have sought the Lord’s opinion before offering my own.
Even a brief prayer would have changed everything:
“Lord, is it good for my son to stay home today?”
“Lord, what is Your wisdom in this situation?”
“Lord, help me respond as a mother led by You, not by fear.”
God is not silent. He is willing to guide us—even in the smallest, most ordinary decisions of daily life.
But He waits to be asked.
A Loving Father, Not a Condemning Judge
Despite my disappointment in myself, the Lord did not shame me. He did not accuse me. He did not remind me harshly of my failure.
Instead, He taught me.
Like a loving Father, He used this moment as a lesson—an invitation to grow deeper in trust and discernment.
I was reminded that spiritual maturity is not about never failing. It is about allowing God to correct us gently and shape us continually.
“The Lord disciplines those He loves.” (Hebrews 12:6)
This correction was an act of love.
How Often Do We Do This?
This incident opened my eyes to a larger pattern.
How often do I:
- Make decisions quickly because they seem reasonable?
- Give advice without praying first?
- Act out of concern that is actually fear?
- Trust my experience more than God’s voice?
I realized that fear often convinces us after the fact that our decision was wise. It builds a strong case. It feels solid. It feels right.
But wisdom that comes from God is always accompanied by peace.
“But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit.” (James 3:17)
Fear never brings peace.
It brings tension, control, and anxiety.
A New Desire of My Heart
This moment clarified something deep within me.
I do not want to live this way anymore.
I do not want to be a woman who reacts first and prays later.
I do not want to be a mother led by fear disguised as wisdom.
I do not want to rely on forecasts, news, or circumstances more than on God.
What I want is this:
To seek the Lord first—always.
Whatever situation I face, big or small, I want my first instinct to be turning my heart toward Him.
Not asking, “What seems reasonable?”
But asking, “Lord, what is Your will?”
Choosing God’s Wisdom Daily
Walking by faith does not mean ignoring reality. It means interpreting reality through God’s perspective.
It does not mean reckless decisions.
It means surrendered decisions.
True wisdom begins with reverence for God:
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” (Proverbs 9:10)
This fear is not anxiety—it is awe, trust, and submission.
When we fear God, we no longer need to fear circumstances.
A Prayer for Discernment
Today, my prayer has changed.
“Lord, guard my heart from fear that pretends to be wisdom.
Teach me to pause before I speak.
Teach me to listen before I act.
Teach me to trust You more than my instincts.”
I want to be a woman who seeks His counsel in every decision.
A mother who releases control and embraces trust.
A believer who values obedience over comfort.
Conclusion: Learning Again and Again
This snowy morning became more than a weather-related decision. It became a spiritual mirror—reflecting areas where God is still shaping me.
I failed, yes. But I also learned.
And I believe this is part of the journey God is inviting me into: a life where His wisdom leads, His voice guides, and fear no longer has the final say.
Each day is another opportunity to choose faith over fear, trust over control, and God’s wisdom over my own understanding.
And that, I believe, is where true peace begins.