What am I afraid of?

I’ve done a lot of work on my app - everything except launch it. Why not??
What am I actually afraid of?

As many of you know, I’m building Already Loved, a personalized children’s book to help kids root their identity in God early.

It’s not that I haven’t had positive encouragement…

But instead of releasing it, I’ve been polishing edges no one will ever see. Adjusting pixels. Rewriting sentences that were fine.
And telling myself it’s excellence.

But it wasn’t excellence.
It is fear in a tuxedo.

If I were advising someone else, I’d call it what it is:
You’re delaying because you’re scared of what happens after you launch.

And the truth hit me harder than I expected.

Myron Golden says we sabotage ourselves when our desires don’t match our expectations.

My desire is simple:
To help kids. To bless parents. To contribute something meaningful.

But my expectation?
Is the exact opposite:
No one will buy it. It’s not good enough. People will judge it… and judge me. And maybe they’ll confirm the doubts I already have about myself.

For a moment, I felt like a kid again — holding something I made, hoping someone would say it was good… because I wasn’t sure I was.

And maybe this is where you, the worship leader, the songwriter, the creative, the pastor, the builder, feel it too.

We stand on platforms and stages with confidence,
but we create from places that feel fragile.

We pour years into a song…
a sermon…
a project…
a book…
and then hesitate to share it because we think people aren’t evaluating the work —
they’re evaluating us.

It’s ironic, isn’t it?
I’m making a book to teach kids their worth doesn’t come from what they do… while battling the lie that mine does.

But here’s what I realized staring at that button:

Fear thrives in fog. Fear only exists in the vague, not the specific.
Clarity shrinks it.

So I sat down and wrote out what I was afraid would happen.
And suddenly the worst-case scenarios looked small.

Because even if the worst happens?
Nothing actually changes.
I’m still loved.
I’m still held.
I’m still called.

The best-case scenario, though?
Kids hear truth.
Parents feel equipped.
A generation gets seeded with identity.

And that’s worth being scared for.

Steve Jobs demo’d the first iPhone when it barely worked — a patchwork of fragile code held together with hope. If he could present that to the world, surely I can release this little offering to mine.

God told Joshua, over and over again, “Be strong and courageous.”
Not because Joshua was enough —
but because God was with him.

So here’s the new me:
Weak-kneed, heart-thumping, still nervous…
but courageous anyway.
Not because I’m ready,
but because God is.

My pledge:
Already Loved will be live by next week’s post.

Because at some point, we all have to stop rehearsing fear
and start walking by faith.