Tag Archive for: 2 Timothy 1:7

2 Timothy 1:7 — For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

I woke up with that familiar tightness in my chest—the kind that makes the morning feel heavier than it should. My hands shook slightly as I poured my coffee, and for a moment, I wondered if something was wrong with me.

I kept telling myself I shouldn’t feel fear.
I’m supposed to be strong.
I’m supposed to be steady.

But the truth was obvious: I wasn’t.

I sat in the chair by the window and whispered the questions I didn’t have answers for.
Why do I feel like this?
Where is all this anxiety coming from?

And then, quietly, Scripture met me right where I was.

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

That verse didn’t shame me for feeling afraid. It reminded me where fear didn’t come from—and where my strength did.

As I repeated the words out loud, something shifted. The knots in my chest loosened. My breathing slowed. Peace didn’t rush in all at once, but it settled—steady and sure. I remembered that fear wasn’t my inheritance. Courage wasn’t something I had to manufacture. God had already placed His Spirit within me.

And I’ll be honest—I may or may not have walked around the room telling that fear exactly where it could go.

By the time I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, nothing in my schedule had changed. But I had. Because God’s Spirit—powerful, loving, and steady—was stronger than my anxiety ever could be.

Later that day, I found myself telling friends about it.

“God’s Spirit is amazing,” I said. “He was stronger than my fear—and I didn’t have to pull courage out of thin air. It was already living in me.”

And that’s what I want you to hear today, too.

If you woke up anxious, overwhelmed, or unsure—know this: fear is not what God gave you. His Spirit lives in you. And I’ve never seen a battle He couldn’t handle.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When fear shows up for you, what does it usually sound like or feel like?
  • How does knowing fear is not from God change the way you respond to it?
  • Which part of 2 Timothy 1:7 do you need most right now—power, love, or a sound mind?
  • What would it look like to speak God’s truth out loud the next time anxiety creeps in?
  • How can you remind yourself daily that God’s Spirit already lives within you?

2 Timothy 1:7 — For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.

Daddy had me in the saddle of a horse before I even had my first loose tooth. I remember my little legs jutting out like sticks, trying to hold on to Dugar, my Palomino, whose coat shimmered like honey in the sun.

Daddy loved horses, and I loved that he wanted to share them with me. Every Saturday, he’d saddle up Dugar and hand me the reins, his big hand steady on my back. I’d watch his face as he tightened the cinch, his eyes full of pride.

We rode together for years, me and Dugar. I learned to sense his moods—when he was feeling feisty, when he was calm, when he’d rather graze than gallop. I’d talk to him like he was my best friend, which he probably was.

Then came the day everything changed.

It started like any other morning, but that day, Dugar had a wild streak in him. He bucked hard, harder than he ever had before, spinning and kicking like he wanted to leave me behind. My heart pounded in my chest as I clung to the saddle, every nerve screaming for me to let go.

But I didn’t. I held on until the saddle slipped, and then I hit the ground. Hard.

My head slammed into the ground, landing just inches from my father’s disc harrow. If you’ve never seen one, imagine a row of sharp, spinning blades pulled behind a tractor. Think of a guillotine on wheels ready to chew up the dirt—and me.

Daddy was there in an instant. I don’t remember much, but I remember the look in his eyes—wet, relieved, scared. But I was alive. No broken bones, not even a concussion. He said it was a miracle. We found out later that the cinch had not been latched properly. It was a small mistake, but it nearly cost me everything.

The next morning, Daddy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes soft. “You ready to ride again?” he asked.

Every part of me wanted to say no. My stomach twisted at the thought of that wild-eyed horse and the way the ground had rushed up to meet me. But Daddy held my gaze, his voice steady. “If you don’t get back on that horse,” he said, “you’ll carry that fear with you the rest of your life.”

So, I took a deep breath and swung my leg over Dugar’s back. My heart thudded with every step he took, each hoofbeat a reminder of the risk, but also of all the rides we’d shared—sunny afternoons, slow walks under the oaks, the way his breath felt warm on my cheek. I chose to trust him again. And in that moment, I chose to trust myself too.

Life has a way of bucking us off when we least expect it. It’s messy and wild and sometimes leaves us face down in the dirt. But staying there isn’t an option. It’s not how we’re made. It doesn’t matter how many times you get bucked off—what matters is how many times you get back on.

So, dust yourself off. Get back on that horse, friend, and let Jesus take the reins.

“For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.”

2 Timothy 1:7

I was perfectly fine staying in my comfort zone. It was nice there. Predictable. Safe. And then, along came Paul Goldsmith, who had the audacity to think I should dream bigger.

You see, for years, I had this dream stirring inside me to create something meaningful that would point people to God’s love. But every time I considered stepping out, I could hear my own voice whispering, Who do you think you are?

And for a while, I believed it.

But for years, Paul called me just to say, “Lisa, you should start a podcast!” And every time, I’d laugh it off. “Right, Paul. I’ll add that to my never-gonna-happen list.”

He did not give up that easily. So he kept nudging and challenging me, until I finally ran out of excuses. And then something wild happened. A group of friends—dear, wonderful, slightly pushy friends—rallied around me. They did not just cheer me on; they fully funded the podcast launch. And with Paul’s coaching, “Life with Lisa Williams” was born.

Through it all, I realized something. We all need people like Paul who will not let us quit on what God has placed inside of us.

More importantly, I have found Jesus is the ultimate voice in our corner. He is the One who refuses to let us settle for less than we were made for. He sees the fear, the hesitation, the self-doubt—and He speaks right through it. “You were made for more.”

So, friend, who is speaking into your life? And more importantly, are you listening? Because the greatest moments of your life will not come from playing it safe. They will come when you take His hand and trust that He sees the potential in you, even if you don’t yet.