When we took my daughter to college in Phoenix last summer, I drove every single one of the nearly 2,800 round trip miles. I didn’t have to do that. My wife and my son, who are both excellent drivers, made the trip with me and were more than willing to drive. But I still drove every mile myself. Why? Control. I wanted (needed?) to be the one operating the vehicle at all times.
And it’s not just driving that presents a control issue for me. My natural inclination is to “take the wheel” in every circumstance of my life. When I do that, if things don’t go my way, I might struggle to trust God. I don’t like to admit it, but the truth is that I often act as though I’m in charge of my life. If I’m brutally honest with myself, I even try to control things so much that I forget about God (or at least leave Him out of it). But the undeniable fact is that I have little control over my life. And if you’re reading this, maybe you realize that the same is true for you. The more control you seek, the less you actually have.
In an old movie revolving around race car driving, the main character has a crash and his doctor says, “Tell me what you love so much about racing.” The driver replies, “Speed. To be able to control it. To know that I can control something that’s out of control.” In response, the doctor answers, “Control is an illusion, you infantile egomaniac. Nobody knows what’s gonna happen next: not on a freeway, not in an airplane, not inside our own bodies, and certainly not on a racetrack with 40 other infantile egomaniacs.”
On the other hand, I read a quote from Skye Jethani that not only reminds me of the doctor’s words in that movie, but also reveals the solution to the problem: “Faith is the opposite of seeking control. It is surrendering control. It embraces the truth that control is an illusion – we never had it and we never will.”
That’s the bottom line: I seek control when I need to surrender control. It’s even true when it comes to the language I use to write this blog. As I often discover, the words of others are more powerful than my own. This is the case in the song, “Control,” by Tenth Avenue North, with these fitting and meaningful lyrics:
God You don’t need me / But somehow You want me / Oh, how You love me / Somehow that frees me / To take my hands off of my life / And the way it should go… Somehow that frees me / To open my hands up / And give You control.
I’m praying that God will help me to give up what I want the most: control. And if I remember that He is in charge of everything, anyway, I just might be able to do it. I don’t know what will happen next, but God does. I’m trying to pry my hands off the wheel right now. I’m almost there…
Troy Burns