It’s Not About Being Scared; It’s About Who Holds the Power
We hear the phrase 'fear of the Lord' and immediately our minds conjure up images of a tyrannical deity waiting to strike us down with lightning the moment we step out of line. We think of cowering in a corner, terrified of making a mistake. But that is not the gospel. That is not the heart of the Father, and it is certainly not the posture Christ modeled for us. We spend so much of our lives exhausted because we are operating out of a worldly fear—fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of running out of time. You thought you were going to retire by now. You made an investment, and it went sideways. You stayed in that job thirty-six months too long, and now you don't even know what you're doing. You are zigging and zagging, trying to control every outcome, and it is draining the life out of your soul.
What if the fear of the Lord isn't about being scared of God, but being so completely in awe of His sovereignty that every other fear loses its grip on your throat? True reverence for God is the ultimate antidote to human panic. Look at the Garden of Gethsemane. The soldiers are coming. The torches are lit. The betrayal is happening in real-time. Panic sets in, and Peter does what we all do when we lose our reverence for God's plan: he pulls out his sword and starts swinging wildly in the dark. He cuts off a servant's ear. He is trying to protect Jesus with a piece of metal, completely forgetting that the Creator of the universe doesn't need his desperate, fleshly defense.
Jesus stops him. In the middle of the chaos, Jesus models what absolute, unshakeable reverence for God actually looks like. He doesn't panic. He doesn't strategize a retreat. He looks at Peter and essentially asks him to remember who is truly in control. This is the fear of the Lord. It is the profound, settling realization that God is so powerful, so in control, and so deeply committed to His redemptive plan that you can finally put your weapon down. You don't have to fight your way out of this using your own strength.
When you truly revere God, you stop trying to manipulate the narrative. You stop trying to force doors open that He has sovereignly closed. Jesus knew the cross was ahead, but His reverence for the Father's will was greater than His fear of the Roman cross. He knew that the scriptures had to be fulfilled. Are you willing to put your sword away today? Are you willing to stop fighting the process God is using to fulfill His word in your life?
Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?— Matthew 26:52-54, KJV
The Posture of Total Dependence
There is a reason the scriptures tell us in Proverbs 1:7 that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge. Without that foundational reverence, everything else we build our lives on is just shifting sand. We try to build careers, relationships, and ministries on our own cleverness. We read the self-help books, we listen to the podcasts, we try to hack our way into peace. But peace doesn't come from a life hack. Peace comes from a posture of total, radical dependence on the Father. If you want to know what that dependence looks like in human skin, you don't have to guess. You just have to look at Jesus.
After Jesus healed a man at the pool of Bethesda, the religious leaders were furious. He had dared to heal on the Sabbath. They were ready to kill Him. In the face of their murderous religious rage, Jesus didn't defend His credentials. He didn't argue theology with them. He simply pointed upward. He revealed the core of His earthly ministry: He lived in such perfect reverence for God that He literally did nothing on His own initiative. He only moved when the Father moved. He only spoke what the Father was speaking. His awe of the Father dictated every single step He took.
This is where it gets incredibly convicting for us. How much of your life right now is being driven by your own initiative? How much of your exhaustion is coming from the fact that you are trying to do things of yourself? You get the victory for a little bit, and then it slips away. You do better for a little bit, and then the old habits come rushing back. Why? Because you are trying to produce spiritual fruit with fleshly effort. Some of the greatest cultivation of your character is meant to happen underground, in the secret place of submission, but you keep trying to force the bloom above the surface.
Reverence for God means acknowledging that you are not the architect of your own salvation or your own success. It is the beautiful, liberating surrender of saying, 'I can do nothing of myself.' It is returning to the heart of a child who just wants to hold their Father's hand. When did you stop being that person who just sat in your room and sang to Jesus? The enemy stole your song because you walked into a storm and forgot who was in the boat with you. It is time to get your song back. It is time to return to the simple, profound reverence of doing nothing without Him.
Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.— John 5:19, KJV
Letting Go of the Plow Handles of Your Past
But let's be honest about the cost. The fear of the Lord is not a passive, sentimental feeling. It demands a directional shift in your life. When you truly revere God, it changes how you walk, how you talk, and most importantly, where you are looking. You cannot claim to have reverence for God while you are constantly looking over your shoulder, negotiating with the life He called you out of. We want to follow Jesus, but we want to do it on our own terms. We want to bring our safety nets, our backup plans, and our old comfort zones with us.
Someone comes to Jesus and says, 'Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at home at my house.' It sounds so reasonable, doesn't it? It sounds polite. It sounds like a responsible thing to do. But Jesus doesn't operate on the frequency of human politeness; He operates on the frequency of the Kingdom. He demands absolute, undivided loyalty. He knows that if you keep one foot in your past, you will never have the traction you need to step into your future. His response cuts straight through our excuses.
When did you take your eyes off of what Jesus was moving you toward and start only thinking about what you were leaving behind? You put your hand to the plow, you started doing the work, you started breaking up the hard, fallow ground of your heart. But then it got difficult. The storm hit. The soil was rockier than you thought. And suddenly, you started looking back. You started wondering if it was easier back in your old life. You started wondering if you should just go back to the familiar dysfunction because at least it was predictable.
Hear the words of Christ today. This isn't a threat; it is a profound spiritual truth about focus and reverence. The fear of the Lord means you revere His calling on your life so much that you refuse to look back at the things that used to hold you captive. You lock your eyes on Jesus. You hold the plow steady. You trust that the harvest He is preparing in your future is infinitely better than whatever you had to leave behind in your past.
And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.— Luke 9:62, KJV
You don't have to have it all figured out today. You don't have to know how the whole field is going to be plowed. You just have to put your hand on the wood, keep your eyes fixed forward, and remember who gave you the assignment. He knew exactly what storm you were going to face when He told you to go. He isn't surprised by your struggles, and He isn't intimidated by your adversaries. Let the fear of the Lord wash over you right now—not as a terror that makes you hide, but as a holy awe that makes you stand tall. Drop the sword of your own striving, lean into the absolute authority of the Father, and watch how He fights for you.