When the Desire Is There, but the Courage Feels Thin

Over the past few weeks, I opened my computer to begin a new blog post – but that’s as far as I could get. I found myself hesitating—questioning whether God was truly asking me to write as a way to serve others. I wondered if my words would matter, whether this was simply a dream I’ve carried for years, hoping it fit within part of God’s purpose for my life.

Then my inner critic joined the conversation. It reminded me that I’m a nurse, that I earned an advanced degree, have a good job, and a stable life. You’ve achieved enough, it whispered. And so, I closed my computer and turned to God instead, offering Him my doubt, my questions, and asking Him plainly: Guide me if this quiet longing is truly from you.

When Fear Masquerades as Wisdom

Lately, I’ve been paying closer attention to my limiting beliefs. I know this desire to write does not come from ego or a longing for another title. It has lived quietly in my heart for years. I’ve pursued it before, only to step back again and again—each time for the same reasons: fear and doubt.

What feels different now is this: the idea of not responding to this nudge feels heavier than the fear itself. I find myself wondering what might happen if my words could encourage someone else. What if something I share points a woman back to God—toward healing, restoration, or a renewed sense of purpose?

Fear often presents itself as wisdom. It urges us to stay where things feel safe and manageable. But when longing continues to resurface, despite our best attempts to quiet it, something within us begins to feel constrained. I’ve been asking God for the courage to move beyond the emotional ceilings I’ve accepted- and for the discipline to take even small steps beyond my level of comfort.

When God’s Work Is Not Limited by Our Fear

Ephesians 3:20-21 reminds us,

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” (The Message)

This passage hit home for me- not as a grand declaration, but as a quiet reassurance. God’s work is not dependent on our certainty or confidence; it unfolds, over time, through His Spirit, deeply and gently within us.

As faith-filled women in midlife, many of us begin to sense a deep longing- not for more achievement, but for meaning. We want our lives to reflect what God is doing within us, not just what we accomplish outwardly. And often, that longing emerges at the very moment fear tells us we should be satisfied where we are.

But God did not limit the emotional ceilings we’ve learned ot live beneath. When we create space to sit with Him- without striving or forcing clarity- He begins to expand our capacity from the inside out. Fear may still speak, but it no longer has to determine the direction of our lives.

When Trusting God With What’s Next Begins Gently

I’m learning that trusting God with what’s next doesn’t require feeling ready—it requires being honest. Instead of trying to overcome fear on my own, I’m practicing something far simpler: bringing it to God exactly as it is.

Fear often sounds reasonable. It encourages us to stay grateful, stay settled, stay small. Yet, God’s invitations are rarely urgent or demanding. They show up as gentle nudges- persistent, patient, and easy to dismiss if we are not careful. I know, because I’ve done it for quite some time now.

Trust begins when we stop wrestling internally and start speaking honestly with God—not with polished prayers, but with the kind that admit uncertainty and weariness. The kind that says, “I don’t know if I can do this, but I’m willing to listen.”

For me, that willingness looks like taking small steps. Opening my computer without expecting perfect words. Writing a paragraph instead of a whole plan. Choosing faithfulness over perfection. Each small act becomes a quiet expression of trust—not because I feel confident, but because I believe God meets us in our willingness.

If you find yourself in a similar place—feeling the tension between longing and fear—know this: you don’t have to trust God with the entire future. You only have to trust Him with the next step He is gently placing before you.

This space—of discernment, faith, and becoming—is where much of my writing lives. If you’re walking a similar path, trying to move forward with what’s next in your life, you’re always welcome to journey alongside me here in The Bloom Journal, where we explore what it means to trust God with each unfolding season.

Reflective Pause

Where might fear be convincing you that you’ve reached your limit?

What small step might God be inviting you to trust Him instead?

Let’s bloom together. Feel free to share your reflections in the comment section.

Carla Burrows — I create space where women come home to themselves, listen for God’s guidance, and rediscover the courage to bloom again in their current season.

Blooming begins when we return to the truth of who we are, our values, and trust God with who we are becoming.

Disclaimer: This post was written from my heart and faith. I sometimes use tools to help me organize my words, but the story, reflections, and lessons are entirely my own.

Your next season is waiting. If you are ready to reconnect, rediscover, and bloom again, let’s walk this journey together. Join My Newsletter.

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