Complacency and contentment are not just words — they are actions. And like every action, they begin as thoughts and eventually manifest in our lives. Because of this, we have to examine the thoughts that give birth to these two actions: fear and trust.

In every moment, one of the two becomes the lens we use to make our choices. That choice shapes how we interact with the world around us. But even then, it’s important to remember: you are not your choices, and every moment eventually passes.

When someone becomes complacent, it does not mean they are a lazy person. Laziness is a label, and labels belong to categories — but you do not. Fear is what tries to place you into categories. Fear is the enemy of our wholeness, and we should strive to discern between fear and the other thoughts that move through us each day.

Fear is not a created thing, so for us to recognize it, it must appear in a form familiar to us. Fear wears the mask of comfort, of wisdom, of knowledge. It tries daily to convince us that it has our best intentions in mind — but nothing could be further from the truth.

As we will explore in future topics, the uncreated cannot exist without creation. So fear needs us in order to live. It cannot simply take all of our life force, so it draws it out slowly and subtly, hoping to go unnoticed. Fear places us into what feels like an endless tunnel. It tells us not to move forward because only pain awaits us. It tells us that there is no light ahead.

We turn around and try to retrace our steps, and fear reminds us exactly how we got here. This state of inaction is what we call complacency.

But even in complacency, we are still moving — still choosing. We’re just choosing to do the same thing again and again because fear convinces us there is no other way.

We hold that belief in front of us as truth…

but what if there is a better way?

One of the greatest tricks the enemy uses is to keep us from seeing — or better yet, to keep us from looking at all. And when we finally do look, we often try to force what we see into our familiar categories so we don’t have to change our worldview.

But what would happen if instead of trying to stay afloat in the world you built for yourself… you allowed yourself to sink?

What if you walked deeper into the tunnel instead of retreating from it?

Not recklessly, but because you believe there is something more than what fear is presenting to you?

This theme appears throughout Scripture: to seek God is to desire more. This desire isn’t a flaw — it’s part of the design.

But to seek God, we must untether ourselves from the familiar and give ourselves fully to the unknown. This is what Scripture calls surrender. This is where trust begins. And trust is not a destination — it is the beginning of everything God intends to unfold.

We don’t always need to understand the fine details. We only need to believe one thing: the world is bigger than the individual, and accepting that frees us. When we trust God, we walk without anxiety. Not carelessly, but free from the fear that follows every pursuit of “more.”

We begin to believe in the promise written within us, and over time, we trust that our actions can lead to better outcomes.

Although we use “battle” language in spiritual warfare, there is one thing we want you to remember: the battle is already won if you choose to believe it’s won.

That doesn’t mean we become complete overnight. We remain human, and every moment still requires a choice:

fear or trust.

complacency or contentment.

the isolated self or the wider whole.

Like Adam and Eve, we often see ourselves as flawed and wonder why we should invest in the idea of the individual at all. But we were created good. We chose evil — but our actions are not our identity. They are simply choices made in moments.

We can always repent — turn — and move forward.

Or we can dwell in the house of pain and repeat the original sin of self-reliance and fear.

As we close this series, take a moment to reflect on this:

“Where am I living from fear in my life, and where can I trust more?”