On Releasing Control
“What’s one thing I should let go of to improve my life?,” the question read.
We were playing a game I purchased a couple weeks prior. “We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections,” reads the website. Certainly they were telling the truth; the connection my ex-boyfriend (now, best friend) and I were fostering during this late Sunday evening was undeniable. We were learning things we hadn’t known about one another; answering questions we’d never thought to ask.
“Release your need to control everything,” he responded, not having to think too long about it.
I let this settle into my spirit along with the various other messages I’d received that week about control.
God was clearly telling me something.
I just worked out in therapy two days prior, that the severity of my empathy was rooted in my desire to control the outcome of people’s problems. I hurt when I see my loved ones hurting, and my inability to bear the burden of their pain heightens the sadness I feel for them.
Through that revelation I realized the many ways my need for control shows up in my life.
It’s displayed in my obsession for overthinking, believing that if I think about all the possibilities, I can choose the outcome I want. It appears in the anxiety I get when my plans go awry. It’s reflected in the tears I cry—sometimes out of sadness, other times out of frustration—when I don’t get my way. It has even shown up in my faith—or lack thereof—when I’m forced to surrender to God’s will.
Control has been deeply embedded in how I function and who I am. It’s been incorporated into all the good decisions I’ve made, and has helped in pulling myself out of the bad ones. As much as my need to control has helped me function at my best (or so I’d like to think) it is—simultaneously—the cause of my angst, worry, and anxiety.
“Wow,” I responded on the verge of tears.
This truth didn’t hurt my feelings, it just confirmed everything God had already been speaking to me. I needed to hear it as plainly as he said it.
“Release your need to control everything.” i let that sit for the rest of the night.
How would I relinquish something that seemed to positively serve me more than it harmed me? The answer was simple.
I had to realize that the idea that I controlled anything was a fallacy in itself. Control was never mine to have. And if I think back over the trajectory of my life, I realize how often God made a way without my help; how the hardship I endured was what I needed for my own development and frankly, couldn’t have been avoided even if I wanted it to be; and how much of what I’ve received in life was simply because I listened to God, and not because I weighed all my options or controlled any of the outcomes.
Our lives have been ordained before a proposition to control it even came about. The plan for our lives has already been sorted out—the fine details already considered. So while we may have control over the decisions we make, we’ll never really have control of the outcome. We could do everything right and end up in hardship. We can do everything wrong and end up prosperous. And as I become more okay with this reality, I consequently heighten my faith in God. I step further away from needing to control all outcomes, and lean fully into trusting Him—knowing that God’s promise will not return to Him empty (Isaiah 55:11). I do my best to silence my anxiety, and release myself to the plan that was activated at the point of my very conception—understanding that everything will work together for my good (Romans 8:28)
Our stories were written before We even came to be. And they will play out exactly as they’ve been written.
I cannot change that, and I dare not try.
So I’d like to thank God for the revelation in this season. Thank you to the We’re Not Really Strangers team for asking the difficult questions. Thank you to my best friend for his honesty. And thank you to the instagram post that fell right in alignment with what God had been revealing since the start of 2020: