Let me tell you a quick story from when I was in elementary school.
Every year in gym class, we had a gymnastics unit, and I loved it. I was the girl who couldn’t wait for that first week to arrive. I enjoyed jumping over the pommel horse, carefully balancing on the balance beam, and pulling myself up on the rings. I liked the challenge. I liked the feeling of discovering what my body could do.
But there was one part of gymnastics I absolutely refused to do.
Tumbling.
Specifically, a simple somersault.
Now, mind you, this wasn’t some complicated flip off a high platform or a daring routine meant for Olympic athletes. It was the most basic move imaginable: bend down, tuck your head, and roll forward.
But in my mind, that somersault was dangerous.
Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that if I tried it, I was going to hurt myself.
I didn’t have any evidence to support that belief. I had never tried it and gotten injured. I had never seen anyone else get injured doing it. There was no logical reason for my fear.
But the fear sounded logical to me.
And that’s the thing about fear.
It rarely introduces itself as fear.
When Fear Dresses Up Like Logic
Fear is clever. It doesn’t usually show up waving a red flag that says, “Hello, I’m fear, and I’m here to stop you.”
Instead, it disguises itself as something much more respectable.
Fear often presents itself as:
- Wisdom
- Caution
- Maturity
- Common sense
- Being responsible
My mind told me things like:
- You should be careful.
- Why take the risk?
- It’s safer not to try.
And when fear is dressed up like logic, it can sound incredibly convincing.
So, I refused to tumble.
My gym teacher encouraged me. My classmates did it easily. One after another, they tucked their heads, rolled forward, and popped right back up again.
But I stayed firm in my decision.
In my mind, I wasn’t being fearful.
I was being sensible.
The Small Decision That Had a Cost
Here’s the part that still makes me smile today.
That one decision dropped my A in gym class to a B.
Everything else I did well.
- The balance beam? No problem.
- The rings? I could do those.
- The pommel horse? I jumped right over.
But because I refused to do one small thing, my grade suffered.
It wasn’t because I lacked ability or because I didn’t participate.
It was because I allowed one fear, one false belief, to limit what I was willing to do.
That single choice created a consequence.
Why This Story Matters
Now here’s why I tell that story to women like us.
Because many of us are still doing the exact same thing in midlife.
Not on a gym mat.
But in our calling.
We’ve convinced ourselves that certain steps are simply too risky.
Not reckless risks, but faithful steps that God has quietly been nudging us toward.
Things like:
- Starting the business or ministry God placed on your heart
- Speaking up about what you believe
- Stepping into leadership
- Writing the book
- Launching the podcast
- Sharing your message publicly
- Saying yes to the assignment God keeps bringing back to your heart
And fear whispers very reasonable-sounding thoughts.
- What if it doesn’t work?
- What if people judge you?
- What if you make a mistake?
- What if you embarrass yourself?
- What if you’re not ready?
It all sounds so responsible.
So thoughtful and mature. But sometimes what we call being wise is actually just fear wearing a business suit.
The Danger of False Safety Beliefs
False safety beliefs can quietly shrink your life.
The tricky part is that they don’t always stop you from doing everything.
Just like my tumbling fear didn’t stop me from participating in gym class altogether.
I still showed up.
I still performed well.
I still participated in most of the activities.
But there was one thing I wouldn’t do.
And that one thing still had a cost.
The same thing happens spiritually.
Many women faithfully:
- Serve in church
- Pray regularly
- Support others
- Show up for Bible study
- Volunteer their time
But there’s one area where God keeps nudging them forward.
And quietly, gently, they step back.
Not because they don’t love God, and not because they lack faith.
But because fear sounds so reasonable.
When Fear Pretends to Be Wisdom
Scripture reminds us in 2 Timothy 1:7: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
Did you notice something important in that verse?
Fear often pretends to be a sound mind.
It mimics logic.
It mimics wisdom.
It mimics responsibility.
But the voice of God sounds different.
God’s voice may stretch you.
It may call you into unfamiliar territory.
But it never traps you in smallness.
God calls us forward.
Fear convinces us to stay still.
A Question Worth Asking
So let me ask you a question today.
Where might fear be masquerading as wisdom in your life right now?
What “somersault” have you decided is simply too dangerous to attempt?
Maybe it’s:
- Starting the thing you keep thinking about
- Speaking the truth God placed on your heart
- Becoming more visible in your calling
- Saying yes to a leadership role
- Finally pursuing the assignment God keeps bringing back to you
Sometimes the difference between living cautiously and living obediently is simply recognizing when fear has been disguising itself as logic.
Choosing Trust Over Fear
The good news is that once you recognize fear’s disguise, you can respond differently.
You can pause.
You can pray.
And you can say something powerful to God: “Lord, I see what’s been holding me back.
And I trust You more than I trust my fear.”
Faith doesn’t mean you suddenly stop feeling afraid.
It means you choose obedience anyway.
It means you take the step – even if your knees feel a little shaky.
Because you trust the One who is calling you forward.
The Life Waiting on the Other Side
Looking back now, I sometimes laugh about that elementary school somersault.
It was such a small thing.
But it taught me a powerful lesson.
Sometimes the thing we fear most is far less dangerous than we imagine.
And sometimes the life God is calling us into is waiting on the other side of the one step fear has convinced us not to take.
So today, I want to leave you with one final thought.
What if the somersault isn’t the danger?
What if the real danger is spending your life standing beside the mat, watching everyone else roll forward, while you convince yourself it’s safer not to try?
Because the truth is, the life God designed for you isn’t built on perfect certainty.
It’s built on faithful steps.
Even the ones that feel a little scary.
Especially those.
