2026.08.09 | I Am More Afraid of People Than I Want to Admit

I am more afraid of people than I want to admit.

Not in every situation. I can have opinions. I can speak up about things that do not cost me much. But when it comes to spiritual conversations, correction, repentance, sin, Jesus, or the gospel, I can feel the fear rise quickly.

What if I say it wrong?  
What if they think I am judging them?  
What if it makes things awkward?  
What if they pull away from me?  
What if I lose the relationship?

So I stay quiet and call it patience.

Sometimes it is patience. Sometimes it is wisdom. But sometimes, if I am honest, it is fear.

In Acts 20, Paul says he did not shrink back from declaring anything that was profitable. He taught publicly and from house to house. He testified to Jews and Greeks about repentance toward God and faith in Jesus.

That phrase “did not shrink back” stayed with me.

Because I shrink back.

I shrink back from inviting the coworker I have prayed for. I shrink back from asking a deeper question when a friend is clearly struggling. I shrink back from telling the truth when someone I love is walking toward harm. I shrink back from speaking about Jesus because I do not want the room to feel tense.

But Paul was not trying to be harsh. He was not trying to win a debate. He was not trying to prove he was brave.

He loved people enough to tell them what was profitable.

That is different.

Fearless preaching is not just a Sunday pulpit thing, though we need that deeply. It is also a house-to-house thing. A dinner table thing. A car ride thing. A coffee shop thing. A text message thing. A moment when love refuses to let fear make all the decisions.

The sermon reminded me that truth is not the enemy of care. Truth is one way God cares for us.

That does not mean I should be reckless. It does not mean every thought I have needs to be spoken. It does not mean I should use “truth” as an excuse to be careless with people.

But it does mean I should ask a better question.

Not “How do I avoid discomfort?”  
But “What would love do here?”

Sometimes love listens quietly. Sometimes love waits. Sometimes love prays for the right moment.

And sometimes love speaks.

I want to be the kind of Christian who does not shrink back from what is profitable. Not because I am naturally bold. I am not. But because Jesus is worthy, people are eternal, and the gospel is good news.

Even when it makes the room quiet.