Jairus was a ruler of the synagogue, a father desperate for a miracle when he went searching for Jesus. When he found Him, he fell at His feet and pleaded, “My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed; and she shall live” (Mark 5:23).
As Jairus made his way home with Jesus, hoping, waiting, and watching as miracles unfolded around him, messengers came from his house with news: “Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further?” (Mark 5:35). Those words must have been devastating. Jairus had had faith enough to seek Jesus. He had seen His power, and watched miracles unfold before his eyes. And yet, in that moment, as fear and despair threatened, Jesus immediately turned to Jairus and said, “Be not afraid, only believe” (Mark 5:36).
In the early days of the restoration, there were many reasons for the Saints to be afraid. In Ohio and Missouri, the Saints faced mobs, loss of homes, livelihoods, and even their lives. As these early Saints tried to spread the message of the gospel, they encountered severe opposition at every step. Yet, despite this opposition, God sent words of comfort: “Fear not to do good, my sons, for whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap; therefore, if ye sow good ye shall also reap good for your reward. Therefore, fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail. Behold, I do not condemn you; go your ways and sin no more; perform with soberness the work which I have commanded you. Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (Doctrine & Covenants 6:33–36).
Fear
The fear that Jairus faced, and the fear that tested the early Saints, is not so different from ours today. Fear takes many forms: the fear of failing, fear of not measuring up, fear of missing out, fear that we are not enough, or maybe that we are too much of something. We fear making the wrong decision, losing someone we love, losing ourselves, or being hurt again. And beneath those fears run deeper currents: the shame of not being what we think we should be, the loneliness of feeling unseen, the helplessness of not knowing how to put the broken pieces of our lives back together. Fear can be paralyzing.
Sometimes it’s the fear that our brokenness makes us unworthy, as if we are beyond God’s help, or beyond His desire to help. We may nod our heads at the idea that God loves all His children, but somewhere deep inside, we wonder if that could possibly include us.
Fear doesn’t just warn us of what could go wrong; it replays what already has. It isolates us and convinces us we are on our own.
These fears are part of a deeper battle for our identity, our peace, and our souls. While Satan tries to distort our sense of who we are. Christ came to tell us whose we are.
When Satan appeared to the prophet Moses, Moses initially resisted, but Satan persisted, and as the account says, “ As [Moses] began to fear, he saw the bitterness of hell” (Moses 1:20). Yet in the verses that follow, Moses called upon God, and strength returned. Fear weakens us. That is fear’s pattern. God restores and strengthens us. That is God’s pattern.
Christ’s Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear
Jesus meets us in our fear. He doesn’t wait for us to be brave. But He does invite us to trust Him, and when we do, He draws us close. He comes to find us. He reaches into the places we’ve closed off and draws us to Him through compassion, not condemnation.
I recently heard a story about bum lambs- baby sheep rejected by their mothers and left to die unless someone intervenes. The shepherd brings these little ones inside, feeds them, and holds them. Later, when the lamb is strong and returns to the field, it never forgets the shepherd. When the shepherd calls, that lamb is one of the first to heed the call, not because the shepherd loves this lamb more, but because it knows the voice of the shepherd.
Just as the lamb learns the shepherd’s voice, we can learn to recognize the Lord’s voice of reassurance over the noise of fear. And when we wonder if He has forgotten us or lost sight of where we are, He speaks again, reminding us: “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me” (Isaiah 49:15–16).
Our walls are the circumstances we live in, and the obstacles we face every day. God is teaching us that our reality is continually before His eyes. He knows, He is aware, and He will not forget. He cannot forget. He has engraven us on His very hands, the instruments of His work. When we feel overlooked or unwanted, He holds us in constant remembrance. Christ’s love doesn’t just soothe fear, it casts it out, and rebuilds what fear tries to destroy.
When fear tries to convince us that our pain and captivity will last forever, remember what the Savior Himself said about why He came. His mission is clear, personal, and aimed right at the chains fear tries to wrap around us: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me…to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives…to comfort all that mourn…to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (Isaiah 61:1–3).
From Jairus in the first century, to the Saints on the American frontier, to us today, the Lord’s message has never changed: “Be not afraid, only believe” (Mark 5:36). Jesus Christ does not love us because we are fearless. He loves us because we are His.
If you are afraid, you are not alone. I have known paralyzing fear. I have been discouraged. I have felt alone. Like Moses, I have feared and have tasted the bitterness of hell. But I have also known the love of a Savior who finds me in my fear, takes me in His arms, and says, “Be not afraid, only believe.”
When we believe, when we let His perfect love all the way in, fear begins to lose its grip.
That is the miracle of His love. It is real. Even for you. Especially for you.