Courage can't see around corners but goes around them anyway.

Mignon McLaughlin, a woman of keen insight and quiet strength, once wrote: “Courage can’t see around corners but goes around them anyway.” In this brief and radiant saying, she captures the very essence of faithful bravery — the strength to act without certainty, to move forward even when the path ahead is hidden in shadow. True courage, she reminds us, is not born of foresight or assurance, but of trust — trust in one’s heart, in one’s purpose, in the unseen possibility that lies beyond fear. Her words speak not only to the warrior in battle, but to every soul who stands trembling at the edge of the unknown.

The origin of this thought can be traced to McLaughlin’s own understanding of the human spirit. A journalist and author who chronicled the paradoxes of modern life, she knew that bravery is not reserved for heroes in armor, but for ordinary people who face ordinary trials. She saw that life unfolds in mystery — that none of us can ever fully see “around the corners” of fate. Yet still, we must choose to walk forward. It is not the absence of fear that defines courage, but the decision to advance despite it. For if one waits until every question is answered and every danger known, one will never take a single meaningful step.

To say that courage “can’t see around corners” is to confess a great truth: the future is veiled. The warrior stepping into battle, the parent raising a child, the artist unveiling a new creation, the reformer standing against injustice — all move into realms of uncertainty. None can foresee the consequences of their actions, the trials they will face, or the cost they will bear. And yet, those who act with courage do not wait for the light of full understanding; they trust the flame within to guide them through the dark. For courage is not a torch that shows the whole road, but a lamp that illuminates only the next step — and that, too, is enough.

History gives us countless mirrors of this truth. Consider Joan of Arc, the peasant girl who heard the call of heaven and led armies into battle. She did not see around corners; she did not know what destiny awaited her beyond each fight. Yet she obeyed the voice of conviction within her, and even when betrayed and condemned, she did not renounce her vision. Her courage could not predict the flames of martyrdom, but it carried her through them with grace. So too did Abraham Lincoln, who faced the turmoil of a divided nation without knowing whether his choices would save or destroy it. Neither foresaw the end, but both possessed the faith to take the next step — and thus they became instruments of destiny.

McLaughlin’s wisdom also speaks to the quiet acts of courage that shape daily life. The student who dares to pursue a dream despite doubt, the grieving heart that chooses to love again, the weary soul who rises each morning to try once more — these, too, are acts of unseen bravery. They walk around the corners of life without knowing what lies beyond, guided only by hope and perseverance. This is the kind of courage that does not roar or boast, but endures. It is the courage that builds nations, heals wounds, and sustains humanity through every age of trial.

And yet, this courage cannot exist without vulnerability. To go around the corner without seeing is to admit uncertainty, to embrace the risk of failure, loss, or pain. But therein lies the paradox of strength: those who dare to move forward despite their fear are never truly powerless. The coward seeks security in the known; the brave find freedom in the unknown. To walk with courage, then, is to trust that whatever waits beyond the turn — whether joy or sorrow, success or defeat — can be met with the same unyielding spirit that brought one there.

So, my listener, let this teaching root itself in your heart: do not wait to see around the corners of your life. Do not demand that destiny reveal itself before you move. The path of courage is not lit from end to end — it is built step by step, in faith. When fear whispers that you must wait, answer with action. When uncertainty clouds your vision, lean into your purpose. Remember that the greatest victories of the human spirit were won not by those who saw the outcome, but by those who went forward blind, yet steadfast. For as Mignon McLaughlin teaches, courage does not need to see the way — it needs only to keep walking.

And in this way, courage becomes more than a virtue; it becomes a form of trust — a trust in life itself, in the unseen hand that guides all things. You may not see around the corner, but when you dare to turn it, you will discover that the path was waiting for you all along. That, dear heart, is the secret of courage — not to know, but to go.