Hope and fear are often intimately linked. We hope for something different and in so doing we become vulnerable to the possibility that it might fail. The moment of joy and excitement of new possibilities can be cruelly snatched away as the images of what might go wrong come flooding into our heads; when we allow fear to stunt our dreams, we do not save ourselves pain, only shift the place from which it may arise.

When the scouts return from Canaan, they bring back stories of fear. The people they see are the sons of Nephilim, giants. The land is too well fortified and the people too strong. Their anxiety is so strong they describe themselves as seeming like grasshoppers not only to Canaan’s inhabitants but, even more sadly, also to themselves.

Their fear diminishes the reality of their own strength and significance. They feel powerless. And their fear spreads, quickly. Despite the reassurance offered by Joshua and Caleb, the people’s fear is so strong not only do they accuse Moses of wanting to lead them into the land to be killed, they even prepare to stone Joshua and Caleb who suggest the land can be taken.

I wonder if the people are knocked off their emotional feet by the powerful mix of hope and anxiety. Entering Canaan means the Israelites can build homes and stable lives, no longer needing to wander in the wilderness. But perhaps this promised future carries a fear of failure so great that it is better never to have tried than to take the risk.

But the Israelites’ fear is a betrayal of trust in God’s promise and the leadership of Moses, which leads to 40 years of continued wandering in the wilderness, a people unable to settle, build homes and thrive.

Each time we refuse to trust our dreams and allow fear to overwhelm us just think of what we lose. But, each time we trust in the hope and our dreams despite the fear we feel, just imagine what we could create together.