Safe Doesn’t Mean Still
Saturday, June 28, 2025
Trading the Weight of Control for the Warmth of Covenant
Hey Dreamer, can I talk to you like we’re sitting together with something warm in our hands and a lot on our hearts?
You know that feeling when everything in you wants to move, wants to trust, wants to believe… but you just can’t seem to take the next step? Maybe you’ve been praying, planning, even hoping—but deep down, you’ve also been bracing. Bracing for disappointment. Bracing for delay. Bracing because the last time you tried to move forward, it didn’t go the way you thought it would.
And so now? You’re still. Not the holy kind of stillness—the sacred rest that comes from peace—but a stillness born out of fear. A stillness that’s secretly rooted in self-protection. You’ve told yourself you’re “waiting on God,” but if you’re honest, you’ve been waiting to feel safe again. You’ve been waiting for a sign that moving forward won’t hurt this time.
I want to lovingly say You’re not wrong for wanting safety. That’s human. That’s tender. But the kind of safety you’re looking for? The kind that promises no pain, no risk, no unknown? That kind doesn’t exist on this side of heaven.
What does exist is a Shepherd who walks with you through every valley. What is real is a God who promises His presence—not always painless paths, but always partnership.
So maybe today is not about standing still until everything makes sense. Maybe it’s about taking one brave, shaky step forward… because you’re not alone in the valley. You’re walking with the One who never lets go.
Trust Walks—It Doesn’t Wait
We’ve often misunderstood trust. We treat it like a passive stance—like a “Plan B” for when we’ve run out of options. But biblical trust isn’t quiet resignation. It’s bold, intentional movement.
Psalm 23:4 doesn’t say, “Even though I sit in the valley,” or “Even though I freeze.” It says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” Did you catch that? There’s motion. There’s progress. There’s courage that keeps going.
And here’s the thing: that kind of courage doesn’t come from having it all figured out. It comes from knowing who walks with you.
David wasn’t declaring faith in himself—he was declaring faith in the Shepherd. The rod that protected him. The staff that guided him. The God who stayed near in the darkest places.
Trust doesn’t require the full map. It just requires you to move in the direction of the voice that loves you.
What Fear Does and What Trust Can Heal
Let’s pause for a moment and talk about what’s actually happening in your body when you’re stuck.
When you’ve been hurt, disappointed, or even just deeply uncertain for too long, your nervous system starts to treat motion as a threat. Your brain tries to protect you, so it kicks into survival mode. Sometimes that looks like overthinking. Sometimes it looks like procrastinating. And sometimes, it just looks like doing nothing at all. You’re not lazy—you’re stuck in a fear loop.
But here’s the powerful part: your body can heal. You can retrain your nervous system to trust again. And do you know what one of the most healing tools is?
Movement.
Yep—simple, grounded movement. A walk. A deep breath. A stretch. When paired with spiritual truth—like the promises in Psalm 23—movement becomes a healing pathway. It tells your body: “We’re safe. We’re covered. We’re not doing this alone.”
What Safety Really Means
We often think of safety as the absence of risk. Like, “I’ll feel safe when nothing can go wrong,” or “I’ll feel secure when everything’s figured out.” But real safety—true safety—isn’t about controlling every variable. It’s about being regulated—spiritually, emotionally, mentally. It’s that deep, internal knowing: “I am not alone.”
You see, safety isn’t something the world guarantees—it’s something God anchors. Safety shows up when your soul, your body, and your thoughts all come into agreement that even if the storm doesn’t stop, you’re still covered. Even if the outcome isn’t clear yet, you’re still held. That’s what it means to live regulated by grace instead of ruled by fear.
And here’s where it gets tricky: we have to be careful not to confuse stillness with faith. Stillness can be holy—beautiful, sacred, even protective—when it’s prompted by God. Maybe He’s calling you to rest, to be still and know that He is God, to wait on Him. That kind of stillness? It renews. It restores.
But there’s another kind of stillness that doesn’t come from God—it comes from fear. From exhaustion. From being so let down in the past that you’ve stopped moving altogether. And when stillness is rooted in avoidance, not obedience, it doesn’t lead to peace. It leads to stagnation. And stagnation? It slowly suffocates what God placed inside you. Dreams begin to die, not because they weren’t real or from Him—but because they didn’t have enough movement to survive.
Remember Peter? The moment he saw Jesus walking on the water, he had a choice: stay safe in the boat or step out into the unknown. He didn’t wait for the waves to calm before he moved. He didn’t demand certainty or clarity. He just moved. And that motion—that wild, water-walking step—was the moment faith became visible. That was the miracle. It wasn’t in the destination—it was in the decision to move toward Jesus.
So if you’ve been waiting for everything to feel perfectly safe before you take a step forward, maybe today is the day you realize: safety isn’t the absence of the storm. It’s the presence of your Shepherd. And sometimes, the most faithful thing you can do is take one shaky step—knowing He’s already there.
Where Is Fear Posing As Wisdom?
Now, let me put my coaching hat on for a second and ask you something gently but directly: Where in your life have you stopped moving forward, not because God told you to wait—but because fear convinced you it was safer to stand still?
Maybe it’s that conversation you’ve been avoiding. Or that step in your business or ministry that you keep saying “not yet” to. Or maybe it’s simply starting to hope again. To believe again. To dream again.
Fear doesn’t always yell. Sometimes it whispers things that sound wise: “Just be cautious.” “Now’s not the time.” “What if you get hurt again?” But if you dig deeper, you’ll find that what’s holding you isn’t peace—it’s protection rooted in pain.
And God? He’s not in the business of shame. He’s in the business of restoration. He’s not rushing you—but He is inviting you. He’s gently nudging you to get up, pick up the pieces of what you’ve laid down, and take one faithful step forward.
Not because the path is suddenly clear. But because He’s already in it, waiting for you.
Walking with the Shepherd
Here’s something you can try today. No pressure. Just an invitation.
Take a short walk. Not for exercise. For your soul.
As you walk—whether it’s five minutes around your home or a stroll through the neighborhood—whisper Psalm 23:4 under your breath: “Even though I walk… You are with me.” Let the words soak into your spirit. Let your feet bear witness to your trust.
You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t even have to know what’s next. You’re simply saying with each step: “God, I trust that You’re with me, even here.”
And if you can’t walk physically today, close your eyes and imagine walking with Him. Visualize the valley. Feel the ground under your feet. Picture Jesus beside you—close enough to hear your breath. Let your imagination become sacred space.
Then afterwards, sit down and write out anything that stirred in you. What did you feel? What did you see? Did anything shift inside of you?
This isn’t about performance—it’s about presence. Movement isn’t just physical. It’s spiritual. And you’re not stuck anymore.
Faith-Filled Affirmations
I don’t have to wait for perfect peace before I move—I can walk with peace beside me.
I am safe because I am seen, loved, and led.
Movement is not a threat—it’s a testimony.
Reflection Questions
What is one area where I’ve been still because of fear, not faith?
What kind of movement is God inviting me into today?
How can I invite His presence to lead, even before I see the full picture?
Prayer Targets
God, help me to discern when stillness is wise and when it’s self-protection.
Jesus, remind me that walking with You is always safer than standing still without You.
Holy Spirit, guide my steps and give me the courage to move again.
Song of the Day
This song feels like a deep exhale. Let it play as you walk, pray, or just sit quietly. Let the lyrics remind you that you’re not wandering aimlessly—you’re being led. Always.
Let’s connect. Not just in the comments, not just with a double tap. I want to know what’s been on your heart. Let’s talk, dream out loud, pray if you need it, laugh if you feel like it, just real space for real conversation.
Listen to Meditation
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