I fear not the cruelty of mankind that may befall me for my faith and trust in Jesus Christ. I fear not the cross. I fear not the sword, nor the rack, nor the flame. I worry not for the hatred, screamed by mobs, for me to silence my testimony. The spear carries not power over my lips to be silent, nor does the arrow, flaming or cold with death.
But there is something I fear, something that gives my mouth to pause. Something awakens me in the night when the thought of it simply trickles over the edges of my mind. Something causes me to sweat and shudder, doubt my courage, question my faith, trust not in my strength and sends me to retreat in silence when perhaps I should speak the name of Christ.
That horrible thought, that unimaginable terror, that nonnegotiable fear stands over me like a giant, casting its ugly shadow over my quivering self.
It is but this, that others will find me simple. That I would lose respect. That I would be rejected by those I admire. That I would look like a fool to a world who neither understands, nor cares to understands.
For this cause, not the arrow, nor the spear, nor the fire, do I be silent. For this reason, I remain a poor ambassador.
Father, give me the courage to even appear foolish before men so I can be wise in you.
“Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise.”
1 Corinthians 3:18.