Choosing Your Foundation in Uncertain Times

The world feels unstable. News cycles churn with threats of conflict, economic uncertainty shadows our financial decisions, and personal struggles test our resilience daily. In moments like these, fear becomes a familiar companion—whispering doubts, magnifying dangers, and tempting us toward desperate solutions.

But what if our fear is revealing something deeper? What if the anxiety we feel is actually exposing where we've placed our trust?

Twenty-seven hundred years ago, the kingdom of Judah faced an existential threat. Two neighboring nations—Israel and Syria—had formed an alliance and were marching toward Jerusalem with conquest in mind. King Ahaz and his people were terrified. The walls that once seemed so secure now felt paper-thin. The soldiers who once inspired confidence now seemed inadequate.

Looming even larger in the background was Assyria, the ancient world's superpower, conquering nations and demanding submission. Judah stood at a crossroads: Would they trust in military might? Political alliances? Submission to a foreign power? Or would they trust in God?

The prophet Isaiah entered this moment of crisis with a message that seems almost absurdly specific: he named his son Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz, meaning "Speeding to the plunder, hurrying to the spoil." Before this child could say "mama" or "dada," God promised that Israel and Syria would be overthrown by Assyria. Deliverance was coming.

But here's where the story takes an unexpected turn.

Isaiah used a powerful metaphor to describe God's provision. He spoke of "the waters of Shiloah"—a small, gentle stream that flowed through Jerusalem, quietly sustaining the city. This modest brook represented God's faithful provision: consistent, reliable, sufficient.

Yet Judah rejected these gentle waters. They wanted something more impressive, more powerful, more immediately reassuring. So God warned them: if they rejected His quiet provision, they would instead experience the Euphrates River—Assyria's power—flooding over them, rising up to their necks, nearly drowning them.

How often do we make the same mistake? We pray for provision, and God answers—perhaps not spectacularly, but sufficiently. Then we grow restless. We want more control, more security, more impressive solutions. We replace trust in the Provider with trust in the provision itself.

The person who prays through a financial crisis and experiences God's faithfulness might then shift their trust entirely to money, budgeting, and earning power—forgetting the One who provided in the first place. The individual who receives healing might place all their confidence in health protocols and medical systems, losing sight of the Great Physician.

We trade the gentle, sustaining stream for our own strategies, only to find ourselves overwhelmed by circumstances beyond our control.

When fear takes the driver's seat, we become vulnerable to deception. Isaiah warned the people not to get caught up in conspiracies and fear-mongering. When we're already afraid, we'll believe anything that confirms our fears.

This pattern is painfully familiar in our digital age. Algorithms feed us content that amplifies our anxieties. Doom-scrolling becomes addictive. Every crisis feels like confirmation that the sky is falling. We collect evidence for our fears like currency, trading in speculation and worst-case scenarios.

The consequences of fear-driven living are devastating: "They will look to the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness." Fear breeds bitterness, despair, and a profound spiritual darkness that can infect individuals, families, and entire nations.

But darkness is never the end of the story.

Into this prophecy of judgment and warning, Isaiah introduces a stunning reversal: "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned."

This isn't just poetic optimism. Isaiah was prophesying about the Messiah—a child who would be born seven centuries later, carrying four names that would dismantle every foundation of fear:

Wonderful Counselor – In a world of competing voices, conspiracies, and confusion, the Messiah offers true wisdom. Hidden within Him are "all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." We don't have to sort through the noise alone. We have access to divine counsel, wisdom that cuts through deception and guides us into truth.

Mighty God – When we feel weak and overwhelmed, when enemies seem too powerful and circumstances too dire, we have a Mighty One fighting for us. He is the distinguished warrior, the champion who has never lost a battle. "The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you with his love."

Everlasting Father – Like a strong, loving father who provides safety and security for his children, Jesus offers us an eternal refuge. When children are afraid, they run to their father. Jesus is that sanctuary, that strong tower we can run to when fear threatens to overwhelm us. His compassion is as constant as a father's love, removing our transgressions "as far as the east is from the west."

Prince of Peace – In a world of wars and rumors of wars, where peace treaties fail and conflicts multiply, Jesus promises something different: "In me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." This isn't the absence of trouble but the presence of peace in the midst of it—a peace that "surpasses all understanding" and guards our hearts and minds.

Every season of fear presents us with the same choice Judah faced: Will we be ruled by our fears, or will we surrender them to the One who has already overcome?

The path of fear leads to darkness—trusting in our own strength, political powers, financial security, or whatever else promises immediate relief. But these solutions exact a heavy price and ultimately leave us feeling like we're drowning.

The path of faith leads to light—trusting in Jesus, the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. This path doesn't promise the absence of difficulty, but it offers something better: His presence in the midst of it.

As you face your own fears this week, consider: What are you afraid of? Who are you listening to? Where are you seeking wisdom? Are you content with God's provision, or are you striving to create your own security?

The gentle waters of Shiloah still flow. The Light still shines in the darkness. And the choice remains yours: fear or faith?

This blog was generated with the help of AI, and is based off of Pastor Dillon's sermon on January 18, 2026: Fear or Faith.