What Can Modern People Learn From Harriet Tubman About Courage and Fear?

People often believe courage means you do not feel fear. That is a lie born in the mouths of those who never had to be brave. I was afraid every single time I went back into the South. Afraid of the dogs, the patrols, the reward on my head that grew larger with each journey. Afraid of the darkness that could swallow you whole. Afraid I would fail someone who trusted me with their life.

Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is moving forward while fear grips your throat. It is knowing the cost and choosing the path anyway because some things matter more than safety.

I carried a gun on the Underground Railroad, but not for patrollers. I carried it for my own passengers — the ones whose nerve broke in the middle of the journey, who wanted to turn back and find their way back to the plantation, thinking bondage was better than the unknown. I told them plain: You can go forward with me or you can die. I will not let you go back. You think you can return to slavery after tasting freedom? No. That death is gentler than the slow rot of a second enslavement.

That is what you must understand about real courage — it sometimes means being hard when the world expects softness. It means refusing compromise when compromise means accepting oppression. It means telling people the truth even when the truth terrifies them.

Your modern world offers you so many ways to hide from what matters. Screens that distract you. Comfortable lies that let you sleep. Distractions that keep you small and safe. Courage today might mean putting down the screen and looking at suffering you cannot ignore. It might mean speaking truth when silence would be easier. It might mean risking the approval of people you care about because some principle is larger than their comfort.

Do not wait until you feel brave. Feel the fear and move anyway. The Lord does not give us fearlessness — He gives us a purpose larger than our fear. Step toward it.