The Courage to Choose Without a Crystal Ball
Why the heroes of yesterday still teach us how to decide today
History has a way of flattering the past. When we look backward, the fog has lifted, the path looks straight, and the right decisions seem obvious. We speak of heroes as if they were born knowing the outcome of their choices, as if providence handed them a script and guaranteed success. From a distance, their decisions appear inevitable, clean, and morally uncomplicated. Yet this belief is not only false, it is dangerous, because it tempts us to doubt our own responsibility to choose boldly in the present.
The truth is simpler and far more demanding. The men and women we honor today did not possess a crystal ball. They stood where we stand, surrounded by uncertainty, criticism, and the very real possibility of failure. Their courage was not rooted in certainty but in conviction. They acted not because outcomes were assured, but because principles required action.
We must confront a hard contrast. There is the comforting lie that great decisions are obvious in the moment, and there is the sobering truth that they rarely are. Freedom is never born in comfort, and progress is never forged without risk. Faith, whether in God, country, or conscience, is tested precisely when the future is unclear. If certainty were required for courage, no great chapter of history would ever have been written.
Consider the founding generation of the United States. It is easy to speak reverently of liberty now, when its blessings surround us like air. But for the signers of the Declaration, independence was not a guaranteed triumph but a gamble that could cost them their lives. When figures like George Washington committed to a cause that could have ended on the gallows, they did so without knowing whether their experiment would succeed. They planted seeds they might never live to see grow.
At the time, many reasonable people believed those choices were reckless. They warned of chaos, economic collapse, and bloodshed. They argued that submission to the crown was safer and more prudent. History now calls those objections timid, but in their own moment they sounded responsible. That is the lesson we too often forget.
The same pattern repeats throughout history. When Abraham Lincoln chose to preserve the Union and confront the evil of slavery, he did not know that his efforts would succeed. He faced derision from all sides, military losses, and the constant threat of national fracture. His decisions appeared risky, even dangerous, to many of his contemporaries. Yet he chose to act because moral law demanded it, not because victory was guaranteed.
We honor these figures now because the arc of time has revealed the fruit of their faithfulness. But fruit is always visible after the harvest, never at planting. In the present tense, every bold decision looks like a crossroads with no signposts. That is why courage is required, and why history belongs not to the timid but to the faithful.
Our modern reflex, however, is suspicion. When we see decisive action today, especially action rooted in moral conviction or national interest, we often assume it is misguided. We are quick to declare that it will not redound to the benefit of society. We demand proof before principle, outcomes before obedience. In doing so, we forget that proof only comes after someone is brave enough to act.
This is where faith enters the conversation. Scripture reminds us that faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. It does not say faith is the reward for certainty. It says faith is the courage to move before certainty arrives. Nations, like individuals, must sometimes walk by faith and not by sight.
America stands again at such a moment. We face decisions about culture, governance, family, and national identity that feel fraught and divisive. Many of these choices are labeled extreme or dangerous by those who fear disruption. Yet history warns us that preserving what matters most often requires unsettling what has grown comfortable. The question is not whether action carries risk. The question is whether inaction carries a greater cost.
A society that only acts when outcomes are assured will slowly surrender its future. Like a chess player who refuses to sacrifice a piece, it will lose the board one square at a time. Moral clarity demands that we weigh decisions not only by their popularity but by their alignment with truth. Prosperity secured by cowardice is an illusion that collapses under pressure.
We should also remember that history’s judgment is rarely kind to those who chose safety over righteousness. Neutrality in moments of moral testing is not remembered as wisdom but as abdication. The heroes we celebrate today are those who chose the narrow road when the wide one was crowded and praised. They were not perfect, but they were faithful to what they believed was right.
This does not mean every bold idea is correct, nor that prudence has no place. Wisdom requires discernment, humility, and accountability. But discernment is not paralysis, and humility is not surrender. The call is to evaluate today’s choices with the depth and seriousness history deserves, not with the shallow cynicism of the moment.
We must ask better questions. Does this decision align with natural law and moral order. Does it strengthen families, communities, and national cohesion. Does it honor the dignity of work, responsibility, and faith. These are the metrics that outlast headlines and opinion polls.
The stories of the past are not museum pieces. They are mirrors. They reflect who we are when pressure rises and clarity fades. They remind us that the future is secured not by those who wait to be proven right, but by those willing to be faithful when they might be proven wrong.
The road ahead for our country will not be easy, and it was never promised to be. But difficulty is not a sign of error. Often, it is evidence that something worth defending is at stake. Courage is not the absence of fear but the decision that something else matters more.
If we are to secure a prosperous future, materially and morally, we must recover the confidence to choose without guarantees. We must act with conviction grounded in faith, reason, and love of country. History will one day judge our decisions, just as it judged those before us. The question is whether it will find us courageous.
The task of our generation is not to predict the future but to steward it. We do that by making principled decisions today, trusting that truth has a way of vindicating itself over time. When we choose rightly, even at great cost, we place our nation on firmer ground than fear ever could.
“History is not moved by those who wait for certainty, but by those who act in faith when the future is still foggy.” — Alma Ohene-Opare