How do you deal with uncertainty?
Uncertainty bites. The first battle is always against fear—for fear shatters your nerves, derails your plans, and drives you to recklessness.
Living in this biting world, no one escapes being wounded; there is always someone—or something—doing the biting. Fear born of uncertainty seems unavoidable, even for people of faith, even for the die-hard. Especially for those who have once possessed wealth or health, uncertainty threatens to strip away all they hold dear.
About thirty years ago, I travelled to South Africa with a friend. We hired a car and toured the country—from safari parks to desolate backlands. We took wild roads, preferring the risk of getting lost over missing the country’s finest views.
One day, the map led us to a barren region where neither traffic nor people were in sight. The road was barely visible after the previous night’s heavy rain. As we forged ahead through the wet, muddy track, a vast pool of muddy water—like a river that had flooded across the way—barred our path. Its depth was unguessable.
We were driving a small car, with neither the clearance nor the horsepower of a ranger to pierce through that “river.” Turning back was my instinct—but that would mean an hour’s drive to return to where we started. My friend insisted we press on. So we did.
As the car entered the water, the muddy flood rose gradually until it covered the windscreen. The engine lost power, and we floated, adrift and helpless. The scene was terrifying—no rescue in sight, no one for miles. Yet I spoke calmly to the driver: “Restart the engine in first gear, and accelerate at full power without stopping.” After a few attempts, the tyres gripped the ground again, and we drove safely out of the flood.
That life-threatening experience reinforced a conviction I carry still: never enter the war zone unprepared.
I have seen many abandon their faith when struck hard by prolonged uncertainty—even die-hards can capsize. So what can we do—or do more—to banish fear and refuse to be bitten by it?
Perhaps carefreeness is an antidote to fear—when you care for nothing and no one, you fear nothing. But who can return to the carefree innocence of a child?
I still care. Even though my fullest effort does not always guarantee certainty, my best endeavour steadies me before all becomes clear. I see that trial tests body and mind—but the true test is faith in the Lord Jesus, and the promise of His guidance and provision. When unforeseen circumstances arise, or even imminent dangers loom, He watches over my steps and walks me through—just as He did on that South African road. I knew He was there. Believing is not by concept, but by deed (Mark 9:23). And even if I cannot, the One who watches over me can (Matthew 19:26).
Learning to be fearless is a lifelong journey—but if you believe, you will see Him (Job 42:5). May this poem help you see clearly, even in the midst of fear or loss.
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✨ Faith is Action ✨
Who has not possessed knows not the grief of loss—
Job’s anguish sprang from all he once could claim.
To bear the theft, in torment patient-still, is beauty;
But to relinquish willingly, and in that loss rejoice, is beauty more.
How can one who has never held
Persuade another not to hold?
To labour, earn, and give to feed a neighbour—
First one must have, before one can bestow.
The Way bids love your neighbour as yourself—
Yet love without a deed is but a hollow word.
Faith is not born from words alone,
But shown through deeds—both theirs and His—
And in that showing, we live and breathe.
—✨
en yan hua fang 