It’s Sunday.The world is ‘snowed in’.And I’ve been sitting in the house (as usual) with my thoughts a little too loud.
This morning, I watched Change Church like I usually do, and Pastor Dharius broke down Psalm 23. Starting with verse 1:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I lack nothing.”
I’ve read Psalm 23 a thousand times, but today something clicked.
The message was called “I’ve Got Control Issues,” and the main takeaway was this:Our need for control is often a trauma response.
Not a personality trait.Not “being responsible.”Trauma.
Control is how we cope when life once felt unsafe.But control is also an illusion — and one we were never built to carry anyway(hello, 1 Peter 5:7).
What really got me was the breakdown of Jehovah-Rohi — The Lord, my shepherd.
David (the writer of Psalm 23) already knew God as Jehovah-Nissi — the God who helped him defeat Goliath.But Psalm 23 is a different revelation.
This wasn’t God helping David fight something external.David needed God’s help fighting himself.
His fear.His anxiety.His need to be in charge.
And that’s when the proverbial light bulb got really bright. lol see what I did there? a comedian
Anyway…Psalm 23 doesn’t say “The Lord is a shepherd.”It says, “The Lord is my shepherd.”
That’s personal.And He can’t be my shepherd if I’m still trying to lead.
The pastor talked about five shifts that happen when we release control:
from scarcity to sufficiency
from wandering to resting
from chaos to calm
from worn out to refreshed
from fear to faith
And I realized… this is exactly the season I’m in.Those are the shifts I’m looking for.
Sooooo, I have control issues?I never thought I had control issues.
I actually prefer when someone else takes the lead, and I can play the supportive, background role.
But lying here snowed in, bored, unsettled, and restless — the truth was subtly revealed to me. A random revelation that all of the new hobbies I’ve been exploring are meant to be good distractions. But what’s really happening is I’m obsessing over the sense of control they give me.
The baking.The puzzles.The Legos.The constant need to “do something.”
None of those things are inherently bad.But I had to ask myself why I keep reaching for them.
And the answer was both uncomfortable. and relieving.
They give me certainty.
Clear ingredients.Clear instructions.A guaranteed outcome.
Even when things start chaotic, I know how it’s supposed to end.
And when it’s done?I feel accomplished.
That’s a feeling I haven’t been getting anywhere else in my life lately.
Right now, nothing feels settled.
Not work.Not money.Not direction.Not identity.And definitely not relationships.
There’s not one key life area where I can say, “Yeah, that’s stable — I can set that down.”
Everything feels unfinished.Unclear.Out of my control.
And I think I’ve confused letting go with giving up.
I’ve stopped trying to force stability — great!But I haven’t actually handed anything over to God.
Because if I’m honest…I don’t know how.
I’m such a literal person.Belief comes easily for me, but trust doesn’t.
I’ve lived the trauma of not being able to trust other people.I’ve lived the trauma of not even trusting myself.
So “give God control” sounds spiritual —But practically?I don’t know what that looks like.
Doing nothing doesn’t work in the physical world (or the spiritual world, either for that matter). That leads to eviction notices and worse problems than the ones I already have.
So I keep grabbing for small things I can manage.Small wins.Small completions.Small proof that I’m not failing at everything.
Last week, I started therapy with a new therapist.
My homework was simple:ask for help when I need it — even financially.insert cringe
And funny enough, this week, money wasn’t the issue.Work showed up.I paid for the session.Homework done.
… or so I thought.
Sitting here today, I realized this is the real assignment.
Not asking people for help.Asking God for help.
Not pretending I know how to surrender.Admitting that I don’t.
So my prayer right now is painfully simple:
God, help me give You control — because I don’t know how.Help me let go of the wheel.Help me trust You enough to be my shepherd.
Because we can’t both lead.And I’m tired anyway.