Finding Courage to Share Your Faith in Every Moment
We’ve all been there. You know, those moments when we feel a nudge in our spirit, a tug on our heart to say something that matters. But instead of speaking up, we stay quiet. We hold back, hoping that maybe someone else will bring up the tough topics, the conversations about faith, life, and what really matters. Silence feels safer, doesn’t it? Less risky. But let’s be honest—what we’re left with is a haunting sense of regret. You walk away thinking, Why didn’t I just say something?
It’s easy to rationalize our silence. We convince ourselves that maybe it wasn’t the right time, or we didn’t have the right words, or we just didn’t want to make things awkward. The excuses roll in like clockwork: They probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. I’ll talk to them about it next time. But deep down, we know we’re missing chances to share the most important truth we have—the hope that comes from knowing God. And those missed opportunities pile up, creating a weight we carry with us everywhere we go.
So, that’s what we’re digging into today. We’re going to talk about those moments when silence feels easier but leaves us with regret. We’re going to break down the reasons we hold back, the excuses we make, and the cost of staying quiet. And yeah, it might get uncomfortable because facing the truth usually does. But this isn’t about dwelling in regret; it’s about learning from it. It’s about letting it change us into people who seize the moments that matter. It’s about taking the time we have now and using it to plant seeds of faith so that we don’t end up with more what ifs haunting us.
You might be thinking, Well, it’s too late for me. I’ve already blown my chances. Trust me, I get it. I’ve been there more times than I’d like to admit. But as long as you’re still here, still breathing, there’s work to do. “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few” (Matthew 9:37). You can’t go back and rewrite the past, but you can decide what you’re going to do with the time you have now. And here’s the truth: this world is not in chaos by accident. There’s a spiritual battle going on, and every conversation, every prayer, every seed we plant counts.
Fear plays a big part in why we hold back. We’re afraid of how people might react. We worry that we’ll make things awkward, or that we’ll be judged, or that we might even lose relationships. Fear sneaks into our thoughts and makes a pretty convincing case for keeping quiet. It’s not the right time. They’re not ready to hear this. You’ll just make things worse. Sound familiar? But here’s what we need to grasp: boldness isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the decision to move forward in spite of it. It’s choosing to let love for others and obedience to God’s call be louder than the doubts that try to hold you back.
I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. When my dad was still around, I had so many chances to talk to him about faith, about what really matters, but I always put it off. I convinced myself that there would be a perfect moment someday when everything would align, and it would just feel right. But that moment never came. Instead, I found myself in a hospital room, listening to machines beep as I watched my dad slip away. I had waited for the “right” time, and suddenly, there was no time left. And all I could say was, “Dammit, Dad.” I felt the regret settle into my chest like a heavy stone. I wished I had been more concerned about sharing the hope I had found, about telling him how serious heaven and hell really are. Now, all I can do is hope that he knew, that he had a relationship with Jesus that I was unaware of.
That regret has been a constant reminder for me ever since. It’s a stark, unyielding lesson that staying silent isn’t the safe choice; it’s the costly one. We may think we’re preserving peace by not saying anything, but what we’re really doing is robbing ourselves—and others—of the chance to talk about the one thing that truly matters. The Bible puts it plainly: “How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?” (Romans 10:14). People need to hear the truth. Yes, they can see our faith through our actions, but there comes a time when words are necessary.
This is not about preaching at people or trying to convert them on the spot. It’s about being present, being willing to have real conversations when those doors open. There was a time when I almost chose silence again. A friend of mine was going through a really rough season. We were talking, and I felt that nudge, the one that said, This is your chance. Say something. But the familiar doubts kicked in: What if he thinks I’m pushing my beliefs on him? What if this makes things weird between us? I had to make a decision: stay silent and risk more regret, or choose to be bold and trust God with the outcome.
I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t have all the answers for what you’re going through, but I do know that God sees you, and He cares about you. I’ve felt His peace in my own life when I didn’t have any answers, and I believe that same peace is available to you.” It wasn’t eloquent, and I stumbled over my words, but it was real. And you know what? He listened. It opened up a space for more conversations, for questions, for seeking. I walked away from that conversation knowing that I had chosen boldness over regret. I had stepped into that moment instead of letting it pass by.
Choosing boldness over regret doesn’t mean we won’t feel fear. Fear is a natural response when we’re stepping out of our comfort zones. But fear doesn’t have to control us. “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline” (2 Timothy 1:7). Boldness is about trusting that God will work through our imperfect words and our trembling voices. It’s about loving people enough to take the risk, to speak the truth even when it feels uncomfortable.
The reality is, the people we care about are facing their own battles, their own questions, and they need to know that they’re not alone. They need to hear about the hope that we’ve found. Not because we have all the answers, but because we care enough to share what’s changed our lives. Silence is easy, but it’s not golden when it keeps us from speaking the truth in love. It’s not golden when it stands in the way of offering hope to someone who desperately needs it.
So, here’s the challenge. Let’s not wait for the perfect moment or the perfect words. Let’s choose boldness over regret. Let’s be the ones who step into those conversations, who plant seeds, and who trust God with the rest. You’re not alone in this. God goes before you, walks beside you, and is already at work in the hearts of the people around you. Your job is to be faithful, to be bold, and to let Him handle the results.
We can’t change the past, and we’re not responsible for how others will respond. But we are responsible for our choice to speak up. So let’s make the most of every opportunity we’re given. Let’s choose to be voices of hope in a world that so often chooses silence. Because when we do, we become part of something so much bigger than our fears, so much more meaningful than our comfort zones. It’s worth every risk, every moment of awkwardness, and every ounce of courage we can muster. Let’s go out there, speak up, and trust that God will take care of the rest.
I loved my dad more than words can express. But I made a mistake—a big one. I never talked to him about Christ. I didn’t show enough concern to tell him that I had found real answers in Scripture, answers that aren’t just philosophical musings but are actually provable, tangible truths. I never laid out how serious heaven and hell really are. And now, all I can do is hope. Hope that somehow, in ways I didn’t see or know, he had a relationship with Jesus. I carry the weight of not knowing. The Bible says, “It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment” (Hebrews 9:27). That reality isn’t something to take lightly.