When I started college, I thought I had this whole “school” thing figured out. Coming out of high school with good grades, I was the kind of kid who last minute-d everything and was able to make due.

Hard work? I hadn’t exactly met him yet.

So, when I was asked as a wide-eyed freshman to take honors-level classes, I was flattered, but also nervous. Frankly, I didn’t know if I wanted to work that hard. Despite my reluctance, there was this little voice in the back of my head urging me to push myself and do it. In spite of my growing fear, I swallowed my nerves and went for it.

And then I immediately screwed it up.

No one told me these courses weren’t meant to make up your entire schedule but to supplement a regular course load. By week one, I found myself drowning in six honors classes, each demanding two to three times the workload of a normal course. While my friends were easing into their schedules with introductions and light assignments, I was stressed to the max by the first weekend.

I felt like I got shoved into a pool and immediately started sinking. Every day, I wrestled with a nagging voice in my head: What if I can’t keep up? What if I’m not as smart as everyone thought?

That one overloaded semester set the stage for my college experience in a way I didn’t expect. GPA-wise, I never really recovered, and I had plenty of other struggles in school. But oddly enough, that period reignited my love for reading (just not for coursework, unfortunately.)

The pressure also forced me to develop a critical skill—learning how to distill big ideas into simple concepts. While I wish I’d applied it better in school, it’s a skill I’m incredibly grateful for today as It’s shaped my career and faith.

Despite how it turned out, I’m glad I listened to that little voice and didn’t let fear stop me. Taking that risk had a bigger impact than I could’ve realized at the time, directly leading to the growth I experience today.

Too often, fear of failure convinces us to play it safe. We think staying in our comfort zone is better than risking embarrassment, rejection, or falling short. But when we avoid stepping out, we miss opportunities to grow and fulfill the purpose God has for us.

The parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14–30 offers a striking example. The servant who buried his talent wasn’t lazy: he was afraid.

Fear of failure drove him to hide what he was given, and it cost him everything. Fear stops us from investing in the opportunities God gives us, leading to stagnation.

Fear breeds doubt, and doubt keeps us stuck as we begin asking, “What if I fail? What if this doesn’t work out?”

Fear and doubt distort the truth: God’s plans are always for our good (Jeremiah 29:11). Even when we mess up, God uses our failures to redirect and refine us.

Think about Peter walking on water (Matthew 14:28–31). The moment doubt crept in, Peter began to sink. But Jesus didn’t leave him there. Failure is never the end of the story when God is involved.

Fear of failure often ties into our desire to control outcomes. We tell ourselves that if we stay within our comfort zones, we can avoid risk and stay safe. But the truth is, we’ve never been in control.

Jesus describes life in the Spirit as being like the wind:

Living by faith means letting go of our illusion of control and trusting God to lead us, even when the destination isn’t clear.

When we understand our identity as God’s beloved children, the fear of failure begins to fade. 

In its absence, we’re free to try new things and take risks, knowing our identity isn’t tied to performance. We are able to explore, fail, learn, and grow with the same security a child has under the guidance of a loving parent.

What does this look like in day-to-day life? It’s the Holy Spirit leading us “into all truth” (John 16:13). “Into” implies movement.

Growth and understanding come as we step out in faith, not before. Recognizing this allows us to embrace failure as part of the process rather than something to avoid.

Failure is never final as long as we remember who we truly are. Here are practical ways to embrace the possibility of failure so it doesn’t stop you in your tracks:

Biblical examples, like Peter’s restoration after denying Christ (John 21), show us that failure can be redeemed for greater purposes.

The fear of failure will try to speak lies of discouragement over your life. 

Don’t let it.

Failure cannot determine your value. As His masterpiece, God has spoken a better word over your life.

Playing it safe might feel secure, but it will rob you of the joy and transformation that comes from stepping out in faith. God promises to work all things together for good (Romans 8:28), as we have seen Him do so many times throughout the Bible.

So take the risk. Try the hard thing. Step out, even if you’re unsure of the outcome. With God, failure is never the end—it’s the beginning of something greater.

Until next time,
Addison