the Death of Control

#1

If podcasts aren't your thing, this one's for you. And if you've already listened to this week's episode of Wholly Unmasked, I hope this blog gives you the opportunity to slow down and let these truths sink in just a little deeper.

Have you ever noticed how exhausting it is trying to hold everything together?

Trying to keep everyone happy.

Trying to prevent the worst-case scenario before it ever happens.

Trying to manage every outcome.

Trying to anticipate pain before it has the chance to find you.

If we're honest, many of us have spent years living this way.

And somewhere along the journey, we stopped calling it fear.

We started calling it responsibility.

We convinced ourselves we were simply being prepared.

Thinking ahead.

Protecting our peace.

Being a good spouse.

A good parent.

A good friend.

But underneath all of our planning...

Our overthinking...

Our constant need to know what's coming next...

There is often something much deeper.

Fear.

When Control Becomes a Survival Mechanism

Throughout the first two episodes of Wholly Unmasked, we've been peeling back layers.

First, we talked about unmasking shame and how hiding was never God's design for us.

Then we discovered that many of us don't actually have a lack of faith problem—we have a location of faith problem.

Peace doesn't come when life is free from storms.

Peace comes when our faith remains anchored in Jesus instead of the storm we're facing.

But once the mask comes off...

Something else begins to reveal itself.

Control.

I think for many of us, control became a survival mechanism long before we even realized it.

When life disappoints you...

When trust gets broken...

When prayers seem unanswered...

When someone you love walks away...

When circumstances blindside you...

Something inside whispers,

"If I can just control enough... maybe I won't get hurt again."

So we grip tighter.

We overthink every conversation.

We replay every mistake.

We try to predict every outcome.

We become hyper-independent because depending on people has hurt before.

We become hyper-vigilant because uncertainty feels dangerous.

Without realizing it, we begin carrying responsibilities God never asked us to carry.

And eventually...

The very thing we thought was protecting us...

Starts suffocating us.

Control Feels Safe... Until It Doesn't

One of the hardest truths I've had to admit is this:

Sometimes I trust my ability to manage life more than I trust God to lead it.

Ouch.

Even typing those words stings.

Because control disguises itself so well.

It sounds responsible.

It even sounds wise.

"I'm just planning ahead."

"I'm just preparing."

"I'm just trying to protect my peace."

But if we slow down long enough to examine our hearts...

We'll often find fear underneath it all.

Fear of disappointment.

Fear of uncertainty.

Fear of losing someone we love.

Fear of failure.

Fear of not being enough.

Fear of life falling apart.

So what do we do?

We grip tighter.

We try to control relationships.

Timelines.

People.

Appearances.

Our children's futures.

Our marriages.

Our finances.

Even other people's opinions of us.

The problem is...

Control promises security.

But it only delivers exhaustion.

Because you were never created to carry the weight of being God.

Abraham's Story Begins With a Promise

One of the most challenging stories in Scripture has always been the story of Abraham and Isaac.

Not because I don't understand it.

But because it forces me to ask one uncomfortable question:

What would I do if God asked me to surrender the very thing I'd spent my life praying for?

Before we climb the mountain with Abraham, it's important to remember how his story began.

God made Abraham a promise.

Even though he and Sarah were well beyond childbearing years, God told them they would become the parents of a great nation.

There was just one problem.

Years passed...

And nothing happened.

Waiting slowly gave way to doubt.

Doubt gave way to impatience.

Eventually, Abraham and Sarah decided to help God fulfill His own promise.

Sarah encouraged Abraham to have a child with her servant, Hagar, believing this must be the way God's promise would come to pass.

Instead...

Their attempt to control God's timing created pain.

Jealousy.

Division.

Heartache.

Isn't it amazing how often our attempts to control what God has already promised end up creating consequences we never intended?

Yet even in their failure...

God remained faithful.

At exactly the right time...

Sarah gave birth to Isaac.

The impossible became possible.

The promise finally arrived.

And I can only imagine what Abraham must have felt as he held his miracle in his arms.

After years of waiting...

Years of hoping...

Years of wondering if God had forgotten...

The promise was finally here.

Little did Abraham know...

His greatest test was still ahead.

Coming in Part 2: We'll walk with Abraham up Mount Moriah and discover why God never wanted Isaac—He wanted Abraham's trust....

#2

When God Asks You to Loosen Your Grip

One of the hardest stories in the entire Bible for me has always been the story of Abraham and Isaac.

Not because it's difficult to understand.

Because it's difficult to imagine.

After waiting decades for God's promise...

After believing when it seemed impossible...

After finally holding the son God had promised...

Genesis 22 opens with words that almost make you stop reading.

"Take your son," God says, "your only son Isaac, whom you love... and offer him as a burnt offering."

Wait...

What?

Can you imagine hearing those words?

The child you'd prayed for.

The miracle you'd waited your entire life to receive.

The fulfillment of everything God had spoken over your future.

And then...

God asks you to place him on the altar.

I think sometimes we read this story too quickly.

Because Abraham wasn't just laying down Isaac.

He was laying down his future.

His dreams.

His expectations.

His understanding.

His security.

His control.

Maybe that's why this story makes us so uncomfortable.

Because we love reading about God's promises.

We just struggle when those promises require open hands.

The Three-Day Journey

One detail that has always stood out to me is how Scripture says Abraham got up early the next morning.

There was no recorded argument.

No negotiation.

No attempt to convince God to change His mind.

Abraham simply obeyed.

He saddled his donkey.

Gathered the wood.

Took two servants.

Brought Isaac.

And began a three-day journey to the mountain God had chosen.

Three days.

Can you imagine everything that must have been running through Abraham's mind during those long hours?

Every step toward that mountain was another step toward surrender.

When they finally arrived, Abraham told the servants,

"Stay here with the donkey while the boy and I go over there to worship."

I love that he called it worship.

Because sometimes the greatest act of worship isn't singing.

It's surrender.

"God Will Provide"

As Abraham and Isaac continued up the mountain alone, Isaac noticed something.

They had the fire.

They had the wood.

But something was missing.

"Father..."

"Yes, my son?"

"The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"

Can you imagine being asked that question?

Abraham's response still amazes me.

"God Himself will provide the lamb."

Notice what Abraham didn't say.

He didn't explain everything.

He didn't pretend to understand.

He simply trusted the character of God, even when he couldn't understand the plan of God.

Sometimes faith doesn't have all the answers.

Sometimes faith simply says,

"God will provide."

When the Promise Becomes the Idol

As difficult as this story is, I don't believe it was ever about Isaac.

It was about Abraham's heart.

Because sometimes the blessings God gives us slowly become the things we trust more than Him.

Isaac represented everything.

The fulfillment of God's promise.

Abraham's future.

His legacy.

His answered prayers.

His security.

His dream come true.

And somewhere along the way...

The promise had the potential to become more precious than the Promiser.

I don't think Abraham even realized how tightly he had begun holding onto the gift.

So God asked one impossible question:

"Do you trust Me enough to loosen your grip?"

That's a question I think every one of us eventually has to answer.

Maybe not with a son on an altar.

But with something else.

A relationship.

A career.

A dream.

A ministry.

A reputation.

A timeline.

A future we've carefully planned.

Sometimes God lovingly asks us to release the very thing we've been trying so desperately to protect.

Not because He wants to take it from us...

But because He never wants it to take His place.

The Real Test

When Abraham finally reached the top of the mountain, he built the altar.

Arranged the wood.

Bound Isaac.

Placed him on top.

Then he reached for the knife.

Just as Abraham was about to obey, heaven interrupted.

"Abraham! Abraham!"

"Here I am," he answered.

The angel told him not to lay a hand on the boy.

Then Abraham looked up.

There, caught in a thicket, was a ram.

Provision had been there all along.

The test had never been about destroying Isaac.

It was about revealing Abraham's trust.

Would he obey even when he didn't understand?

Would he trust God's heart when he couldn't see God's plan?

Would he believe God was still good with empty hands?

Those are the same questions many of us wrestle with today.

Because surrender always feels risky.

Especially when we're convinced our security depends on whatever we're holding.

But maybe...

Just maybe...

The safest place has never been in our grip.

Maybe it's always been in God's hands.

Coming in Part 3: We'll look at why control can never produce peace, what surrender actually looks like in everyday life, and why the ram in the thicket reminds us that God's provision is often waiting on the other side of our obedience.

#3

Control Was Never Meant to Carry You

If Abraham's story teaches us anything, it's this:

Control always grips tighter.

That's what fear does.

It convinces us that if we can just hold on a little longer...

Plan a little harder...

Think a little further ahead...

Maybe we can protect ourselves from getting hurt.

Maybe we can prevent disappointment.

Maybe we can keep life from falling apart.

But control has one major flaw.

It can never deliver what it promises.

It promises safety.

But it produces anxiety.

It promises certainty.

But it creates exhaustion.

It promises peace.

But peace never comes.

Because you and I were never designed to carry the weight of being God.

The Mountain We All Have to Climb

What amazes me most about Abraham's story isn't just that he obeyed.

It's the walk up the mountain.

Scripture doesn't tell us Abraham argued with God.

It doesn't tell us he demanded answers.

It simply shows us a man who kept taking the next obedient step.

Can you imagine how quiet that walk must have been?

Every step probably felt heavier than the one before.

Every step required trust he couldn't possibly manufacture on his own.

That's what surrender often feels like.

People love the idea of surrender until God asks for the thing they're holding most tightly.

The relationship.

The dream.

The ministry.

The image they've worked so hard to maintain.

The future they've already planned.

Their comfort.

Their timeline.

That's the moment surrender stops sounding beautiful...

And starts feeling terrifying.

But maybe that's exactly the point.

Because surrender has a way of exposing what we truly believe about God.

Do we believe He's good only when life makes sense?

Or do we trust His heart even when we can't understand His hand?

God Was Never After Isaac

Here's the truth that changes everything.

God never wanted Isaac.

The test was never about destruction.

It was about trust.

Would Abraham obey without controlling the outcome?

Would he trust God's character more than his own understanding?

Would he believe that God was still faithful even if his hands were empty?

Friend...

Maybe that's exactly where you are today.

Maybe you're standing on your own emotional mountain.

Holding something so tightly your hands are exhausted.

Maybe it's control over your future.

Maybe it's your healing.

Your marriage.

Your children.

Your career.

The opinion other people have of you.

The timeline you've written for your life.

Whatever it is...

If you're honest...

You're tired.

Because control demands constant attention.

It never lets you rest.

Control Is Not Peace

This has been one of the hardest lessons God has ever taught me.

Control made me feel safe.

But it never made me peaceful.

There's a difference.

Peace doesn't come from knowing what's going to happen.

Peace comes from knowing the One who already does.

Read that again.

So many of us have spent years trying to create internally what only surrender can produce spiritually.

We've tried to think our way into peace.

Plan our way into peace.

Prepare our way into peace.

But peace has never been the reward for perfect planning.

Peace has always been the fruit of trusting God.

Isaiah 26:3 says,

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are stayed on You, because they trust in You."

Notice it doesn't say peace belongs to the people who have everything figured out.

It belongs to the people whose minds remain fixed on God.

The Ram Was Already There

One of my favorite parts of this story is something that's easy to overlook.

The moment Abraham finally released control...

He looked up.

And there was the ram.

Provision had already been placed on the mountain.

God wasn't scrambling to come up with another plan.

He already had one.

I can't help but wonder how many times God's provision is waiting on the other side of our surrender...

But we never experience it because we're too busy trying to control the outcome ourselves.

Sometimes the blessing isn't found in gripping tighter.

Sometimes it's found in finally letting go.

Maybe the Death of Control Is Actually Freedom

What if the death of control isn't God punishing you?

What if it's God setting you free?

Free from impossible pressure.

Free from trying to predict every outcome.

Free from believing everything depends on you.

Free from carrying responsibilities you were never meant to carry.

Because here's the truth:

Control is a terrible savior.

It asks everything from you...

And gives almost nothing in return.

Maybe that's why some things have to die.

Not because God wants to hurt us...

But because He wants trust to finally live.

Coming in Part 4: We'll look at the three simple words Abraham repeated throughout this story—"Here I am"—and why they reveal the true posture of surrender. Then we'll finish with eight practical ways to loosen our grip and trust God more deeply.

#4

"Here I Am": The Posture of Surrender

One of the most powerful details in the story of Abraham and Isaac is something that's easy to miss if you read too quickly.

Three different times in Genesis 22, Abraham responds with the exact same words:

"Here I am."

When God called his name...

"Here I am."

When Isaac spoke to him on the mountain...

"Here I am, my son."

When the angel of the Lord stopped him before the sacrifice...

"Here I am."

That repetition isn't accidental.

It reveals Abraham's posture.

A posture of availability.

Of attentiveness.

Of obedience.

Even when he didn't understand what God was doing, Abraham remained present enough to hear His voice.

Present with God.

Present with his son.

Present enough to recognize mercy when it interrupted the moment.

That convicts me.

Because if I'm honest, there have been plenty of times I've said, "Here I am, Lord..." only to quietly add conditions.

"Here I am... as long as it makes sense."

"Here I am... as long as I still feel in control."

"Here I am... as long as it doesn't cost too much."

But Abraham's response never changed.

Before the promise.

While carrying the promise.

And while surrendering the promise.

That's what deep trust looks like.

I also wonder how many times control keeps us spiritually distracted.

When we're consumed with managing outcomes, rehearsing worst-case scenarios, or obsessing over every possible future, we stop listening.

Then we wonder why God feels silent.

But maybe He isn't silent.

Maybe we've just become too distracted to hear Him.

Abraham stayed close enough to hear heaven speak.

Close enough to hear God say, "Stop."

Close enough to recognize the ram in the thicket.

Close enough to realize he had never been abandoned on the mountain.

Maybe that's what surrender really is.

Not simply laying something down.

But staying close enough to God to hear what He wants to say next.

Because freedom isn't found in finally controlling everything.

Sometimes freedom is simply being able to say,

"Here I am."

And meaning it with every ounce of your being.

What Does Releasing Control Actually Look Like?

It's easy to say, "Just surrender."

But if you're anything like me, your next question is...

How?

I love practical steps because they help us move truth from our heads into our everyday lives. So here are a few ways we can begin loosening our grip.

1. Be honest about what control is producing.

Ask yourself:

Is this producing peace... or just temporary relief?

Control can make us feel productive while quietly draining us emotionally and spiritually.

Isaiah 26:3 reminds us:

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You."

Peace isn't found in managing every outcome.

It's found in trusting the One who already knows the outcome.

2. Identify the fear beneath your control.

Control is rarely the real issue.

Fear is.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of failure.

Fear of uncertainty.

Fear of loss.

Fear of being hurt again.

Until we confront the fear, we'll continue trying to control everything around it.

3. Stop living in tomorrow.

Jesus said in Matthew 6:34:

"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself."

Control constantly tries to live in a future that hasn't happened yet.

But God gives grace for today.

Not tomorrow.

Not next year.

Today.

I've always loved this reminder:

God gives daily bread—not lifetime blueprints.

4. Release the outcome, not your obedience.

Surrender doesn't mean doing nothing.

Noah still built the ark.

David still faced Goliath.

Esther still approached the king.

They obeyed.

But they didn't control the outcome.

That's our responsibility too.

We obey.

God handles the results.

And if I'm going to hand control to anyone, I can't think of anyone more trustworthy than the One who holds all things together.

5. Replace overthinking with prayer.

Philippians 4:6 tells us not to be anxious about anything but to bring everything to God in prayer.

Every time anxiety rises...

Pray instead of spiraling.

Worship instead of rehearsing fear.

Surrender instead of endlessly strategizing.

Control grows where prayer is absent.

6. Loosen your grip daily.

Jesus said,

"Take up your cross daily and follow Me." (Luke 9:23)

Notice He said daily.

Not once.

Every single day.

Some days surrender looks dramatic.

Most days it looks ordinary.

Not forcing an answer.

Not manipulating a situation.

Not needing immediate certainty.

Choosing to trust God in the silence.

Daily surrender slowly retrains our hearts to trust Him more than ourselves.

7. Remember who God is.

You'll never surrender to someone you don't trust.

That's why Scripture reminds us over and over again that God is faithful.

God is good.

God is sovereign.

God is near.

God keeps His promises.

Surrender isn't falling into chaos.

It's placing your life into trustworthy hands.

8. Remember that surrender often feels like death before it feels like freedom.

Control became a coping mechanism for many of us.

Of course letting it go feels painful.

But throughout Scripture, death is never the end of the story.

Pruning comes before fruit.

Surrender comes before peace.

The cross came before the resurrection.

Even Jesus prayed,

"Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done." (Luke 22:42)

If surrender was holy enough for Jesus...

It isn't weakness for us.

The Birthplace of Freedom

The opposite of control isn't chaos.

It's trust.

Maybe today God isn't asking you to figure everything out.

Maybe He's simply asking one question:

Do you trust Me enough to loosen your grip?

Even when you don't understand.

Even when the future feels uncertain.

Even when obedience costs more than comfort.

Because the safest place you will ever be isn't in control.

It's in the hands of God.

The death of control feels terrifying at first.

But it becomes the birthplace of freedom.

I often think about what Jesus' followers must have felt as they watched Him die on the cross. Everything they believed seemed to unravel in a single afternoon.

But Sunday was coming.

What looked like defeat became the greatest victory the world has ever known.

Maybe you're standing in a Friday season right now, convinced that surrender means the end of the story.

Friend, don't lose heart.

God has always been in the business of bringing resurrection out of what looks like death.

So today, loosen your grip.

Lift your eyes.

And with a heart that trusts Him more than the outcome, whisper the same words Abraham did:

"Here I am."