“Out of the Depths”

Jonah Parker had lived with a quiet fear for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t the kind of fear that burst through the front door with noise and chaos; it was the kind that slipped in silently and sat in the corner—always watching, always whispering. Some days it whispered about his past, reminding him of decisions he wished he could undo. Other days it whispered about the future, painting dark pictures of what might go wrong. But most days, it whispered about the present: You’re not enough. You’re going to fail. Something bad is coming.

Lately, the whispers had grown louder.

One cold, gray afternoon, Jonah sat at his kitchen table, his hands cupped around a mug of coffee that had long since grown cold. The rain drummed against the window like anxious fingers tapping a warning he couldn’t understand. He stared blankly at the steamless cup, feeling the heaviness rise again in his chest.

A knock sounded on the door.

Jonah blinked, startled. He wasn’t expecting anyone. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and walked to the door, hesitating for a moment before opening it.

On the porch stood his friend, Daniel Reed, damp from the rain but smiling warmly.

“Hey, Jonah,” Daniel said. “Thought I’d stop by and check on you. I was in the neighborhood.”

Jonah managed a weak smile. “Hey. Uh… come in.”

Daniel stepped inside, shaking the rain from his jacket. “Looks like the weather’s trying to imitate your mood.”

Jonah sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows you well.”

Jonah closed the door and leaned against it, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on, Daniel. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. I keep feeling like something terrible is going to happen. It doesn’t make sense.”

Daniel’s eyes softened. “You’ve been struggling with this fear for a while, haven’t you?”

Jonah nodded.

“Well,” Daniel said, hanging his jacket on the chair, “how about we sit down for a bit? Let me share something with you.”

Jonah shrugged, unsure. But he followed Daniel back to the kitchen table.

Daniel pulled out his small, leather-bound Bible from his backpack. Jonah blinked in surprise.

“You came prepared,” he said.

Daniel chuckled. “I came hopeful.”

He opened the Bible and slid it gently toward Jonah. “Let me show you something that helped me when I went through my own season of fear.”

Jonah frowned. “You? Fear? Daniel, nothing shakes you.”

Daniel looked him in the eye. “You’d be surprised.”

Jonah said nothing, waiting.

Daniel turned to Psalm 34. “This psalm was written by David when he was terrified—literally running for his life. Listen to what he says.”

He read slowly, letting the words rest in the air:

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.” — Psalm 34:4

The words felt like warm light breaking into a cold room. Jonah swallowed.

Daniel continued, “Notice David doesn’t say God removed the circumstances immediately. He says God delivered him from his fears—the inward battle.”

Jonah brushed his thumb along the edge of the table. “I’ve prayed, Daniel. I’ve asked God to take this fear away. It’s still there.”

Daniel nodded sympathetically. “Let me show you another verse.” He turned the pages and read:

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” — Psalm 56:3

He looked up. “David doesn’t pretend he never gets afraid. He says when I am afraid… I choose to trust.”

Jonah breathed out slowly. “I want to trust. But it feels like fear just wins every time.”

“That’s because you’re trying to fight fear with your own strength,” Daniel said gently. “Fear doesn’t leave when we stare harder at it. It leaves when we look at God instead.”

Jonah leaned back, confusion creasing his forehead. “But how? I keep trying.”

“Listen to this from Isaiah 41:10—one of God’s clearest promises.”

He read aloud:

‘Fear not, for I am with you;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’

The room seemed to grow still.

Jonah blinked rapidly. “With you,” he whispered. “That’s… personal.”

“It’s meant to be,” Daniel replied. “God isn’t asking you to pretend you’re fearless. He’s telling you that you’re not alone in it.”

Jonah looked down at his hands, surprised to see them trembling.

Daniel let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again. 

“Fear thrives when it convinces us that everything rests on us—our ability, our control, our strength. But God tells us that He is the one holding us.”

Jonah swallowed hard. “I know these verses… I just haven’t been living like they’re true.”

Daniel smiled softly. “That’s most of our problem, friend.”

“Jesus gave His disciples these words when they were terrified of what lay ahead.” John 14:27:

‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.
Not as the world gives do I give to you.
Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.’

Jonah closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. Peace. Not the world’s version—temporary, fragile, conditional—but Jesus’ own peace. The kind that calms storms—not necessarily the ones outside but the ones inside.

Daniel spoke again quietly. “Jesus gives peace because He gives Himself. And perfect love casts out fear—1 John 4:18.”

Jonah nodded slowly. “So, you’re saying the way forward isn’t me trying harder… but trusting deeper?”

“Exactly,” Daniel said. “Fear loses power when we anchor ourselves to something stronger than it. And the strongest anchor is God’s unchanging Word.”

Jonah rubbed his face with both hands. “I just feel… overwhelmed.”

Daniel placed a hand on Jonah’s arm. “Let me show you one more.”

He turned to Psalm 23, the familiar words written like a gentle melody:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”

It doesn’t say you’ll avoid the valley. It says when you walk through it, God goes with you.”

Jonah breathed in shakily. “I never realized how much those words matter.”

“They matter because they’re true,” Daniel said. “Fear tells you that you’re alone in a dark valley. God tells you He’s holding your hand the whole time.”

Jonah stared at the Bible, his eyes growing moist. “Daniel… I don’t know how to get out of this pit.”

Daniel’s voice softened even more. “You don’t have to get yourself out. God lifts you out. Psalm 40:2 says, ‘He drew me up from the pit of destruction… and set my feet upon a rock.’ The rock is Him.”

A tear slipped down Jonah’s cheek.

Daniel sat quietly with him, letting God’s Word work where his own words could not.

After a long moment, Jonah whispered, “Could you… pray with me?”

Daniel nodded, bowing his head.

“Father,” he prayed, “You see Jonah’s fear. You see the battle in his heart. But You are greater. You are his refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. You said in Your Word that when we seek You, You deliver us from our fears. Do that for him, Lord. Let Your peace guard his heart and mind in Christ Jesus. Remind him that You are with him, that You hold him, and that Your perfect love pushes out every fear. Strengthen him today. Carry him tomorrow. And anchor him in Your truth. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Jonah wiped his eyes. “Thank you.”

Daniel smiled. “Anytime.”

They sat together for a moment, listening to the rain lighten. After a while, Jonah whispered, “I feel… different. Not fixed. But seen. And steadier.”

“That’s what God’s Word does,” Daniel said. “Fear doesn’t disappear in a moment. But as you keep turning to truth, the lies lose their grip.”

Jonah nodded, looking again at Psalm 34.

“He delivered me from all my fears.”

He wasn’t there yet.

But for the first time in a long time… he believed he could be.

And Jonah believed—deep in the quiet of his soul—that he wouldn’t have to walk the journey alone. Neither do you. If you are struggling with fear, “Let the Sheperd walk with you.” Jonah overcame his fear because: “the Shepherd was with him.” The Shepherd will walk with you, too, if you will invite Him in.

Ed Johanson  © 11/19/2025