CHAPTER 1
Brave Enough
You will never do anything in this world without courage.
ARISTOTLE
* * *
It's ridiculous, really, I told myself. Just do it! I had felt a nudge, a small but holy whisper, to do something I didn't want to do. There had been conflict and I was hurt, and the last thing—the last thing that would even cross my mind as a good idea—was to take another step of reconciliation. I knew that the whisper was from God (because I sure wasn't coming up with it myself ) and that what I needed to do was the right thing. And the right thing, on a cold Thursday morning, was to write a note of apology.
I was fighting with God about writing a note.
Because dear friend, let me say it again, in case you missed it:
I didn't want to.
I bet you've felt this before too—whether you've said it out loud or under your breath or deep in your heart (as if the God who knows all doesn't hear us when we grumble in our hearts!): There are things that life asks of us, good things, hard things—and sometimes we don't want to do them.
When it came to this note, I really didn't want to write it. I didn't want to with all of my heart. I didn't want to risk being hurt, I didn't want to try to see it differently, and I didn't want to work harder at this relationship. I didn't want to make peace; I wanted to turn around and run. As I thought about holding the pen over the paper, I felt my throat constrict, like my very heart was trying to hold on to those words, not let them become real and flow out of me. I had to sneak them out the side door of my soul, through the pen onto the paper and into the hands of the other. So I began to write; faltering, stopping, and starting again. I thought about what really matters, and I willed my mind to choose the truth and not what I wanted to believe, not what was easier to believe.
I still didn't want to write that note. But something was just a bit stronger than my fear, stronger than my pride, stronger than my own self-created stories. And I believe that something is what we all need—whether we are facing one small act or one monumental leap in our lives.
That something is courage.
The definition of courage is "mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty." The root of courage, cor, comes from the Latin, meaning "heart." So said another way, courage is a strong heart. Courage is the will to move past fear and get out of our own way, to become the women God has made us to be. Though fear might cause us to cower, courage causes us to grow. Courage is the titanium foundation of our character and the marble-solid pillar of our soul.
Maya Angelou once said, "Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage." Courage is not just a virtue—courage is the virtue, the one that stands above all others. Courage cuts across circumstances. We need courage in good times, when God calls us to live in faith. We need courage in hard times, when God calls us to endure.
And although we often assume bravery isn't all that important except in the dramatic, do-or-die moments of our lives, courage is forged in the countless, seemingly-small-but-difficult challenges that everyday life brings us. We need courage to make the everyday choices that become the compilation of who we are, what we value, and how we love.
Sometimes we need courage to write notes, to get out of bed, to say hard things. And yes, sometimes we need courage for the unexpected, defining moments of life.
* * *
I brought a pint of ice cream and two plastic spoons to the hospital room. Nothing says "Get well soon" better than sneaking in a high-fat dessert. My friend Ellie and I happily passed the pint back and forth as we caught up on life. I had met Ellie when she was in the seventh grade. Even then, she was a compassionate, quiet young woman with a heart for God and for people. Now Ellie was twenty-six years old and twenty-five weeks pregnant, her Young Life T-shirt almost covering her little belly. We were reconnecting—but not over the dilemmas of middle school, like mean notes and hard teachers. Now we talked medical terms—early contractions and steroid shots and stress tests—over the whir of machines. Ellie put on a brave smile, and we prayed together. As I left the hospital room that night, I thought to myself, She's so young.
Tucker was born by emergency C-section later that week. He weighed one pound, ten ounces, and had a gap between his esophagus and stomach.
Her little boy is now a toddler, and Ellie now knows what it means to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. She can teach NICU nurses like a pro. She's performed CPR on her son while dialing 911.
Ellie didn't sign up for this life. But she loves her husband and son with the strength of a fighter. She wouldn't have called herself a courageous woman when we shared ice cream, but she's learned to be brave because she had to. God didn't give her any other choice—and now she knows him in a richer, more meaningful way. Turns out, she had just the right DNA for this fight. Ellie's brave ... enough.
* * *
Sara was working in a call center—a young, single professional planning on a career as a worship leader—when she first heard about human trafficking. She stayed up late one night, scouring the Internet for any information she could get about how organizations were fighting the brutality of human slavery. She was horrified by the videos, so she prayed that night before bed, not expecting God to answer her. But he did. As it turns out, she was part of his plan when it comes to responding to this tragedy.
When I met Sara two years after this defining moment, a lot had changed. One step at a time, Sara had responded to the call. She started a domestic anti-trafficking organization. She eventually quit her job and became a full-time missionary for the organization. She's been awarded grants, has championed legislation, and has begun a prevention curriculum that's being used in high schools around the country. But Sara's job can be lonely and demanding. She's dealt with conflict and confusion and chaos. Yet at every turn, God seems to already be there, fighting her battles and showing her favor.
Sara didn't listen to a podcast on human trafficking with the intent to change the world. But it turns out God had a big plan for a courageous young woman. Sara has learned. She is brave ... enough.
* * *
When Maria tells me the story about the day her world changed forever, she points out the good things first. She says that it was a beautiful morning and that she and John had coffee and prayed together before he left. She explains that John was running around the college campus where he was a professor—just like he loved to do. She mentions he had no ID with him. She tells how it was unusual that during the day John hadn't called or texted that he would be home late, which alerted her to start looking for him. As a result, many family and friends were at her house when she got the phone call.
She is grateful that she could receive the news of John's sudden and absolutely unexpected death from her father-in-law, who identified John at the hospital and first bore the brunt of the shock. John was forty-six years old and had been a part of her life for more than twenty-five years. They had begun dating when they were both fifteen.
When Maria talks about John, you see the love and the peace. But she twists her wedding rings around her finger when she talks, and I wonder how hard it is at night. Nevertheless, Maria's making it. This isn't anywhere near the life she expected. But she's a courageous woman raising four amazing children. Maria's brave ... enough.
Your Daily Brave
I want to suggest to you that your life—your ordinary life—requires courage too. Whether you are facing a life-altering circumstance like Ellie, Sara, and Maria or an everyday challenge like writing a note of apology, courage is the force that propels us to take a step forward—whether that step is a tiny hop or a desperate leap.
This brave-enough grit is not stereotypical superhero bravery. I'm not talking about the kind of courage that the world loves, courage forged through experiences or knowledge, perhaps resiliency we admire from afar—the kind of resiliency that we hope we'll never need.
This is different, a courage that comes from outside of yourself but that changes you inside your soul. This courage releases the vise grip of fear and gives you the energy and strength and heart you need to face whatever life's got for you. Ellie, Sara, and Maria need it because it's these brave-enough steps that have forged their character today. My breakfast buddies, Lisa, Elizabeth, and Ashley, need it because it's the brave-enough grit that's allowed them to be honest. I need it because I've learned that every day presents an opportunity to be brave enough. This kind of courage doesn't come because we are extraordinary in ourselves, but because we have placed our full confidence in an extraordinary God.
No matter what you face today, God offers the same to you. His love—not your own ability or goodness—will be the source of your true bravery and strength. Becoming brave enough to meet the challenges of daily life is where this begins. And when we become brave enough for the small challenges of today, we become brave enough for the big opportunities of tomorrow. Let's explore what this altogether-different courage looks like—what I like to call "Jesus-courage."
Jesus-Courage
What exactly do you know about Christ's love? Like me, you can probably sing, "Jesus loves me, this I know." You may even have warm-fuzzy feelings, like Hallmark Channel–movie love, when you hear this song. "Jesus loves me" makes me think of little Dixie cups of apple juice and feltboard Bible stories. But those warm fuzzies can't even get me to be more patient in traffic, much less sustain my heart in the real storms of life.
Of course it is true that Jesus loves us. His relentless passion and ministry spring from love—love for his Father and love for us. But love, a word that is so carelessly flung around in our culture, doesn't seem to fully capture what Jesus does for us. Yes, Jesus loves you in your weakness, your failure, and your need, but he also loves you in far greater ways. Jesus loves you into a whole new way of being—a whole new person.
When we examine what happens to people when they encounter Jesus in the Bible, we begin to notice some similarities. Sometimes Jesus met their physical needs, but he always left them remarkably changed on the inside. They became bold and confident and courageous. I want to suggest that maybe our needs today are not much different from the needs of the men and women who encountered Jesus in person. Neither are the strength and courage that Jesus offers us. Let's look together at the power behind this transforming love.
Take heart
When Jesus came on the scene in the countryside of Judea, it didn't take more than a hot second for people to realize that he was worth listening to. He didn't just speak words—he taught with authority and with power. Word got around, and soon Jesus couldn't go anywhere without hordes of people following him, asking him for miracles, for teaching, for healing.
Once when Jesus was preparing to teach, he went into a house. I would imagine he was speaking in a crowded room where people jostled one another, elbowing and positioning for the best spot to see him. I bet that the room was hot with breath and sweat and that it smelled of people—all hungry to see Jesus, to know him, half-excited and half-frightened about what he might say. And then came a rustling from above and shouts as men pushed their paralyzed friend through the roof so they could drop him right in front of this fascinating man who had been healing people—really changing them.
Imagine what it would be like to be that friend. Powerless: unable to move of your own accord. Desperate: completely dependent on others. For years, perhaps even all your life, you've been the outcast, never able to do or be anything—to pull your own weight, to work, to live like those around you.
Perhaps your heart has twisted and guarded itself. Perhaps you pretend you don't care about the stares and the whispers. But it doesn't really matter what you think because your friends insisted that you must see this man. When they couldn't find a way to carry you into the room, they lifted you up to the roof and dropped you down in front of Jesus. Now there you are, in the crowded room, looking up at the faces—faces with expressions that say everything you've ever believed about yourself and about this life, about the haves and the have-nots.
And then it grows strangely quiet. You look up and you see him—Jesus. Something in you wells up, something that's foreign and distant. It's been so long since you've felt it that you can't place the feeling immediately. It's ... hope.
Jesus' first words to you are these: "Take heart ... your sins are forgiven" (Matthew 9:2). Before the healing, before you stand up and walk, before Jesus glorifies the power of God in front of this crowd, he addresses a more pressing need than even that. Don't miss this key word in the passage. Our English translation says "take heart," but the original word used here in the Greek is tharseo, which simply means "courage." Take a deep breath and take in what Jesus addresses first, before he meets any other need:
Courage. Your sins are forgiven.
Be encouraged
Another time, Jesus walked along with a powerful man, a ruler who wanted Jesus to come help him. Even then, people were following Jesus, pressing in on him, shouting his name, needing him. And in that crowd was a woman who suffered from an illness that caused chronic, unmanageable bleeding—a woman who had suffered for years.
Imagine what it would be like to be that woman. Hope was lost so long ago that all you can do now is try to eke out the best existence you can, one day at a time. You are a woman who bleeds, so you are unclean, unacceptable, unwanted. You are shamed for your ailment and discarded for your illness, and you have had to remove yourself from community because you are not allowed around other people.
You are isolated. Alone. Hurting. Desperate.
If you were this woman, I wonder if you could find the strength and the grit and the hope to once again believe life could be different. Would you have the desperate strength to do what she does—to reach out for Jesus' cloak and to touch him and to ...
Be healed.
The Bible says that "Jesus turned around, and when he saw her he said, 'Daughter, be encouraged! Your faith has made you well.' And the woman was healed at that moment" (Matthew 9:22, NLT).
"Be encouraged" is that same Greek word, tharseo. Before Jesus does anything else, he imparts tharseo—courage!
Courage. Healing is here.
Don't be afraid
The Bible also tells us about the disciples, Jesus' closest friends and followers. From scriptural accounts, you can almost picture what it would be like to experience the amazing things that they did. Imagine the excitement, confusion, worry, and hope they feel as they witness miracles and listen to teaching they've never known. They are like most of us, a mix of faith and doubt, of power and weakness.
One night, after another long day of ministry and healing, Jesus stayed behind and sent the disciples off in a boat. It was dark and stormy, so the boat swayed and tipped. The wind howled and the waves pummeled these disciples, so even these lifelong fishermen were terrified.
That was some storm.
And in the midst of this powerful disturbance, perhaps the storm of a lifetime, Jesus walked out to them. Walked out on the water, defying the law of gravity and every law of nature, providing his disciples a front-row seat to his power and goodness and God-ness. They were terrified. "Jesus immediately said to them: 'Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid'" (Matthew 14:27). Here it is again, courage!
Tharseo: Courage.
Jesus is near!
Forgiven sin.
Healed lives.
Powerful presence.
There are only four places in the Gospels where this Greek word tharseo is used. Each time, it is spoken by Jesus himself. In John 16:33, Jesus says it for the fourth time; "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart [tharseo]! I have overcome the world." Jesus gives us a promise with power. Jesus-courage comes with forgiven sin, with healing, with presence, and with the ability to overcome. Yes, Jesus love us: he loves us into a completely different experience. He loves us into a new way of living.
