Having a choice is not a sin, it is prudence

But am I not sinning if I keep my distance? Am I not breaking the commandment of love and openness if I have a list of questions and worries in my head?

I used to think that trust necessarily meant complete openness. And doubt was a manifestation of weakness or even distrust of God's providence. But over time, through various encounters and, frankly, through several disappointments, I came to a different understanding.

We are given freedom. And this is not just the freedom to do what you want - it is the ability to choose responsibly. And responsibility includes not only love, but also caution. In the Gospel of Matthew (10:16) Jesus says: "Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; therefore be wise as serpents and harmless as doves." And if you think about it, this is an amazing formula: on the one hand, simplicity of heart, on the other - a sound mind.

When you meet someone, for example, especially online, where anyone can hide behind pretty words, you don’t have to bare your soul right away. Faith doesn’t require naivety. God doesn’t mind if we look closely first. He created us to feel, to know, to observe. Trust is not a button you can push. It’s a journey. And the journey takes time.

And yes, sometimes you notice warning signs along the way. Not because you’re looking for flaws, but because you’re praying, asking God for wisdom, and He answers you — in the form of intuition, slight discomfort, or even words spoken “in passing,” but something inside you trembles.

The Bible is full of examples of people who made decisions with caution. Remember the Virgin Mary. When the angel appeared to her, she didn’t immediately say “yes.” First, she asked, “How will this be?” (Luke 1:34). She didn’t doubt God — she wanted to understand. So asking questions doesn’t mean not believing, it means caring.

This is especially important when it comes to choosing a person to spend time with. We don’t choose coffee. It’s not about “matching interests.” It’s about the soul responding, and the mind saying, “Yes, this is good.” And here it’s important not to be afraid to be cautious. Not to be afraid to say, “I want to get to know you better before I dare to let you in deeper.” Not because you’re cold — on the contrary, because you value yourself and others.

There’s a passage in the book of Proverbs that I like: “A prudent man foresees evil and hides it, but fools pass by and are punished” (Proverbs 22:3). It’s the same thing. Caution is not fear. It’s maturity. It’s when your heart is still open, but no longer blind. When you go to meet someone — but don’t run, without forgetting yourself along the way.

I’m not saying this as an expert. I’m just a person who tries to live by faith, to be alive, honest, sometimes vulnerable, sometimes cautious. Sometimes men write to me, wanting to understand what’s on my heart. And I don’t always answer right away. Not because I’m proud or unapproachable. But because I want to be honest with myself, and with God, and with the one who writes. After all, if dialogue is a path, it should be illuminated by light, and not run in the dark.

So if you’re reading this and thinking, “I also sometimes doubt whether it’s worth trusting right away” — know that you’re not alone. And it’s not a sin. It’s part of the path.

The main thing is not to close yourself off. And don’t blame yourself for being cautious. It can be the same form of love as trust. It’s just a different stage of it. Calmer. More mature.

How do you feel about having a choice when you have doubts?

With peace and warmth, Ekaterina.
may your path be bright.