Jesus Called and He Wants His Steering Wheel Back

Thank you, Lelia, for the inspiration behind this post. Because of your authenticity about your own issues with control, I was moved to write about this. You sharpen my iron, girl. So…thank you.

If you’re like me, you might be convicted just by the title of this blog. The truth is, I could probably stop right here, having made my point. But I know there’s more I need to say.

It’s that control thing, ya’ll. I’ve got a problem with it.

I’ve written about my issues with control before, like in this post. It is no secret to those I love that my world runs best when I know information like who, what, where, when, and if at all possible, how. Though I have been at times severely stretched, proven wrong, had things blow up in my face, and been convicted over this issue of control before, still I refer back to it like an old and trusted friend. To be sure, it has been with me for a very long time.

I’ve tried to control my present…like the time today I got frustrated when I realized my husband didn’t tell me about his plans to meet a buddy for dinner. Instead of being happy for him to have a few minutes with a friend, I complained that he didn’t tell me about it until the last minute, disrupting MY plans.

I’ve tried to control my future…I’ve scurried around at times, running here and running there…spending “x” amount of hours on the computer and email and on the phone trying to build my ministry. I’ve networked and mingled ‘til I was blue in the face. I’ve tried to play the game, continuously hoping that one day I’d get really good at it if I tried hard enough.

I’ve even tried to control my past, as funny as that may seem. I’ve sometimes shared only parts of my life and my experiences with people, leaving out the “really bad” things that might turn someone off or make them think less about me. I’ve been selective with some of the things I’ve shared, controlling my past.

You’d think I would know better by now, but I’m afraid I often have a bit of amnesia when it comes to this subject. Though I do have quite a repertoire to refer to.

My control issues have caused me lots of pain over the years. I have missed out on sweet blessings that I could have otherwise received but didn’t because I was trying to control it all. I have spent countless hours worrying for nothing. I have tried and striven until my eyes were blurred and my heart was weary and I never wanted to try, again. I have hurt relationships with people I care about. I have said things that I wish I could take back. I have compromised my body, my soul and my spirit by foolishly thinking I could control anything, when the truth was, everything I thought I was controlling was controlling me.

In college, I tried to control my weight. I existed on 500 calories a day so that I would be the super skinny girl I never was but always wanted to be. I exercised like a maniac so I would be thin enough for my boyfriend, trying to control how much he loved me. I never achieved anything by trying to control it, but I always, always tried. My weight was just one of the ways I tried.

Most of all, I have hurt my relationship with Jesus by yes, even trying to control that. I have wanted Him to do the things for me I thought were best. I have tried to convince Him that He needed a little bit more of my help. I have run around trying to control things instead of resting in His sovereignty and direction. I have tried to control my role in our relationship, and in the process, I have missed out on the joy that comes from letting Him parent me properly.

Oh, control. It’s been a long time companion for this girl.

So when my friend talked to me recently about how she is like that girl in the movies who always lunges for the steering wheel of the car she’s riding in, causing a terrible wreck, I could immediately visualize me being the lunger and grabber of the steering wheel of my own life’s car. I could picture God in the driver’s seat, where I asked him to be when I was 6 year’s old. And I could see me as the passenger, sitting right beside Him. I could see the times I panicked when the road we were on didn’t look like the one I wanted to be on and letting control rear its ugly head and win as I lunged desperately for the steering wheel, it resulted in a horrific crash.

The truth is, that some of my control issues have not resulted in a terrible crash. But they have still affected my journey and my relationship with God, so what is the difference? Carrie Underwood may sing the song, “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” but too often my life's song is, “Jesus, give me that wheel. I know what I’m doing.”

Of course, I don’t. And that’s when He reminds me that He’s the driver and I’m the passenger, and He wants His steering wheel back, thank you very much.

And then I remember all the times He has driven my car successfully. And I remember that I can trust Him to do the navigating. And that my role is not one of control, but rather, one of surrender.

Oswald Chambers said it best when He wrote, “God is not working toward a particular finish – His purpose is the process itself…[His] training is for now, not for later. His purpose is for this very minute, not for sometime in the future. We have nothing to do with what will follow our obedience, and we are wrong to concern ourselves with it.”

Translation? Jesus called and He wants His steering wheel back.

He won’t force it out of our hands. He won’t take it back by manipulation. He may even allow a crash to happen in the process of transfer of drivership, though that was not His intention. But make no mistake about it, He wants it back.

It’s up to us to decide whether or not we will release our grip of the steering wheel when our desire to control grips us. He will let us drive, but it will never yield the results we are after.

When we release our grip of the wheel, we release our life back to his control. We answer “yes” to His call for submission. We decide to surrender. We choose to obey.

For we aren’t to concern ourselves with the destination, but rather, sit back and let the expert navigate the roads. After all, He’s got a perfect driving record.