When Your Calling Feels Too Big: What I Learned from Gideon's Fear

The year was 2018, and I was staring at an email that felt like a divine joke. My pastor, a man I deeply respected, had just asked me to lead the new young adult ministry at our church. Me. The guy who, just six months prior, had barely managed to host a game night without a panic attack. The email, sent on a Tuesday afternoon, landed in my inbox like a lead weight, and my heart immediately began its familiar drumbeat of inadequacy.

I remember distinctly the smell of stale coffee in my home office and the way the afternoon sun slanted across my messy desk. My wife, Sarah, was due home soon, and I knew she’d be ecstatic. But all I could think about was the sheer scale of the task. Speaking in front of people, organizing events, mentoring young adults – it all felt like a mountain too high, a calling too big for someone as introverted and self-doubting as me. I felt a familiar kinship with certain biblical figures right then, particularly one very reluctant judge.

My mind immediately jumped to Gideon, a man whose story has always resonated deeply with my own struggles with fear and self-doubt. He wasn't some towering hero, confident and ready for battle. He was a farmer, hiding from his enemies, when God called him to do something truly impossible.

Gideon's Humble Beginnings: Hiding from His Calling

The Bible introduces us to Gideon in a rather undignified position. The Midianites were oppressing Israel, and the people were suffering. It was during this time of national distress that God chose to intervene, not with a king or a renowned warrior, but with a humble farmer.

Judges 6:11-16 paints a vivid picture:

"Now the Angel of the Lord came and sat under the terebinth tree which was in Ophrah, which belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, while his son Gideon threshed wheat in the winepress, in order to hide it from the Midianites. And the Angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said to him, 'The Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor!'

Gideon said to Him, 'O my lord, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all His miracles which our fathers told us about, saying, "Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?" But now the Lord has forsaken us and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.'

Then the Lord turned to him and said, 'Go in this might of yours, and you shall save Israel from the hand of the Midianites. Have I not sent you?'

So he said to Him, 'O my Lord, how can I save Israel? Indeed my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house.'

And the Lord said to him, 'Surely I will be with you, and you shall defeat the Midianites as one man.'"

Can you imagine the scene? Gideon, a man literally hiding his harvest from raiders, probably sweaty and dusty, is suddenly confronted by an angelic being who calls him a "mighty man of valor." It’s almost comical, isn’t it? It reminds me of how I felt reading that email – like God had clearly mixed me up with someone else. I wasn't a "mighty man of valor" in my own eyes, but a "mighty man of anxiety" when it came to public speaking or leadership.

The Angel's Astonishing Greeting: 'Mighty Warrior' to a Fearful Farmer

"The Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor!" That line, in Judges 6:12, always hits me with its profound irony and grace. God doesn't wait for Gideon to become mighty; He declares him mighty in advance. He sees not what Gideon is in that moment of fear and hiding, but what he will become through divine empowerment. This was a crucial lesson for me.

When I first started leading the young adult ministry, I was constantly comparing myself to other leaders, other pastors, other biblical figures I admired. My internal monologue was a relentless stream of "I'm not articulate enough," "I'm not charismatic enough," "I don't know enough theology." I remember a specific Tuesday evening, about a month into the role, preparing for our first big event. I was so overwhelmed I almost called my pastor to quit. I felt utterly unqualified, just like Gideon threshing wheat in a winepress – a place designed for pressing grapes, not for threshing, indicating his desperate attempt to stay hidden and safe.

But God’s perspective is always different from ours. He doesn't call the equipped; He equips the called. He doesn't wait for us to feel ready; He declares us ready by His presence. This truth slowly began to penetrate my fear-addled mind. My pastor saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself, just as God saw a "mighty man of valor" in Gideon.

Gideon's Excuses and God's Patient Reassurance

Gideon's response to the angel's audacious greeting is exactly what I would have said. He doesn't immediately jump up, sword in hand. Instead, he questions God's presence and power: "O my lord, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us?" (Judges 6:13). He's looking at the present circumstances, the evidence of suffering, and wondering where God's promises are.

Sound familiar? When faced with that email, my first thoughts weren't "How can I serve?" but "Why me? Don't you know how bad I am at this? Don't you see all the ways I've failed before?" I was listing my limitations, my past mistakes, my lack of experience, just as Gideon did: "O my Lord, how can I save Israel? Indeed my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house." (Judges 6:15). He's not just saying he's from a weak clan; he's saying he's the least within that weakest clan. Talk about profound humility or, more accurately, deep insecurity.

But God doesn't berate him. He doesn't dismiss him. Instead, He offers a simple, powerful reassurance: "Surely I will be with you, and you shall defeat the Midianites as one man." (Judges 6:16). The emphasis isn't on Gideon's strength, but on God's unwavering presence. This was the turning point for me. I realized my pastor wasn't asking me to do this in my own strength, but in God's. It was a partnership.

The Fleece Test: When We Need Tangible Proof of God's Presence

Even after God's reassurance, Gideon isn't entirely convinced. He asks for a sign, not once, but twice, with the famous fleece test (Judges 6:36-40). First, he asks for the fleece to be wet with dew while the ground around it is dry. Then, he reverses the test, asking for the fleece to be dry while the ground is wet.

Honestly, I used to judge Gideon for his doubt. But now, looking back at my own journey, I completely understand. There were countless times in those early months of ministry when I silently, or sometimes not so silently, cried out for a sign. "God, if this is truly you, please let someone show up tonight." "God, if I'm meant to lead this, please give me the right words to say." "God, if this isn't just my own foolish ambition, please open the door for this event."

My fleeces weren't literal wool, but they were tangible moments of confirmation. The young adult who came up to me after a particularly difficult message and said, "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that tonight." The unexpected donation that covered a crucial expense. The way a completely new person would walk through the doors exactly when I felt like giving up. These weren't grand miracles, but they were God's quiet, patient assurances, just like the dew on Gideon's fleece. They were the gentle nudges reminding me, "I am with you."

From Fear to Faith: Gideon's Journey to Leadership (and My Own)

Gideon's story doesn't end with him hiding in a winepress. He eventually leads a small, unlikely army of 300 men to a miraculous victory against overwhelming odds, all because he finally stepped out in faith, trusting