Control
My husband is a textbook Enneagram number two, sometimes known as “the helper.” My independent nature can sometimes frustrate his natural tendency to assist me. He has asked me on more than one occasion, “Why didn’t you ask me to help you?” when he comes upon me precariously carrying too many items at once. When he asks me this question, I obstinately reply, “I’ll ask for help if I need it.” He thinks I can be stubborn. These conversations generally take place when I am frantically rushing toward a destination to deposit items from my overburdened arms before I lose the entire load. I don’t ask for help because I am convinced that I have things under control.
Until I don’t.
I recently confessed this tendency to carry my own burdens alone for as long as possible during a discussion about anxiety. Okay, the discussion was a therapy session, and I was the patient. While sharing about a particular situation, the therapist asked, “And in that moment, where was Jesus?”
Is Jesus absent, distant, or nearby when life overwhelms us and things feel out of control? I’ve told parents that God is near when they have shared that their child is dealing with depression or disappointment, is involved in sinful behavior, or rebelling. I’ve told coworkers and friends that God is near when they have experienced job loss, received a dreaded diagnosis or devastating news, or been betrayed. I’ve believed God is near with the news of break-ins, weather disasters, a volatile political climate, financial strain, economic pressures, and the breakouts of wars and their continued atrocities. Yet, why do I continually carry so many of my own worries and concerns before handing them over?
Until that particular moment during the therapy session, I had never fully realized the distinction between merely believing in Jesus’ nearness, and actually submitting to give up control. “Are you implying that I am treating Jesus like I do my husband when I don’t allow him to help me until I am overwhelmed?” I asked my therapist with incredulity.
Perhaps you are as familiar with Matthew 11:28-30 as I have been most of my life. In that passage, Jesus invites: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (ESV). The New American Standard Bible reads, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened…for my yoke is comfortable, and my burden is light.”
Notice first the invitation: “Come to me.” How gently he summons us to him. The tool, or yoke, is used to join two creatures for the purpose of working together or sharing a load. Those exhausted from carrying heavy burdens are tenderly called to a peaceful rest with a lightened load. As lovely as this sounds, it requires real work to achieve.
Like I previously stated, willingly sharing a load is not my natural or first instinct. Instead, I wait until I start to lose my grip and drop things or begin to stumble and fall. So, to take up the yoke and share the work of carrying my load requires a yielding of my own desires and time frame, a willing submission. Stubbornness has no place in the release of control required to wear this implement of discipline.
To fully accept this invitation requires surrender. I find the action of giving up control to God best illustrated in the lyrics of a song by the artists For King and Country entitled “Control.”
You asked me to let go, but I thought I knew better
Afraid of surrender and what I don’t know
I’ve always had a plan, but now I’m so weary
And I can’t see clearly, forgot who I am
So won’t You make my eyes Your eyes
My ears Your ears, my tears Your tears
And won’t You make my hands Your hands?
My feet Your feet, my dreams Your dreams
I give up control, oh, oh, whoa
Body, mind, and soul, oh, oh, whoa
Can’t do this on my own, no, no
I give up control.
Although other songs have expressed similar sentiments, asking God to take over when we strive to keep control, the specific wording in this song spoke more directly to my heart. I had not considered before how striving to hold things together and be strong on my own is like saying, “No thank you, God, I’ve got this. I’ll ask for your help if and when I need it.”
The passage in Matthew 11 invites us to let go when we think we know better. The request to replace our own eyes, ears, tears, hands, and feet with God’s sight, hearing, emotions, actions and direction is a beautiful expression of what it means to fully surrender: body, mind, and soul. If you struggle to release control, then may these words become a mantra for you, too, as we strive to surrender to God.
