Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable it is to give up control?
I know someone—we’ll call her Betty—who much prefers to be the one driving. Her husband has a perfectly good driving record. Rationally, she knows she’s probably just as safe, if not safer, when he’s behind the wheel, especially since she herself has had a few accidents. But that isn’t really the issue. The moment she’s in the passenger seat of any vehicle, she gets anxious. It’s not because she thinks he’s a bad driver. It’s because she’s no longer the one in control.
The funny thing is, I don’t think Betty is unusual. I think she’s human.
In fact, I hear people describe themselves as “control freaks” all the time. We usually laugh when we say it, but I wonder if that’s because there’s more than a few grains of truth in it.
The older I get, the more I realize how many things I can’t control. I can’t control what other people think. I can’t control the economy, the weather, or whether someone I love will stay healthy. I can’t even control whether my carefully planned day will survive until lunchtime. Heck, I can’t even control the thermostat—it’s just there to give me the illusion of control.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with planning. That’s part of being a good steward. But somewhere along the way, planning can quietly become grasping. We start trying to carry responsibilities that were never ours in the first place.
I wonder if that’s because control is what we reach for when trust feels out of reach.
There’s a verse that comes from Proverbs 3:5-6. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; don’t rely on your own intelligence. Know him in all your paths, and he will keep your ways straight.” Eugene Peterson’s translation, The Message, says it this way: “Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don’t try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he’s the one who will keep you on track.”
I’ve heard those words most of my life. For years, I think I misunderstood them. I heard them as, “Stop thinking.”
That’s not what they say. God isn’t asking us to stop using the minds he gave us. He’s inviting us to recognize that our understanding, by itself, is never enough to carry the weight of life.
Of course, that’s easy to say when everything is going well. It’s much harder when the doctor’s report isn’t good. When someone you love is hurting. When you’re waiting for answers that don’t seem to come. When the future feels uncertain.
That’s when our hands tighten around the steering wheel. Not because we’re stubborn. Because we’re afraid.
The good news is that Scripture never pretends faithful people found trust easy. Abraham struggled. Jacob struggled. The disciples struggled. Again and again, God met ordinary people who wanted certainty and instead offered them his presence.
Maybe that’s still how God works.
What if faith isn’t about becoming fearless? What if it’s about gradually discovering that God’s hands are steadier than ours?
If trusting God is difficult for you, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re in good company. None of us learns trust overnight, and we certainly don’t get there by trying harder. It’s a lifelong process of opening ourselves to God’s grace, discovering little by little that he really is faithful, and finding that our grip loosens just a bit as his love takes hold of us.
Maybe that’s enough for today—not perfect trust, just the willingness to say, “Lord, help me trust you a little more than I did yesterday.”
Let’s pray.
Father, thank you for your patience with us when fear makes us hold on too tightly. Help us to trust you a little more each day and to rest in your faithful love. Keep reminding us that your hands are steadier than ours. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
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