The Illusion of Control
Anxiety Loves Control!
☝️Listen to this chapter as you prepare for work or in the background.
Breathe Again, My Anxious Soul!: Because Peace Is Possible and Hope Is Closer Than You Thought. (Ebook and Audio Book versions)
Anxiety loves control.
It promises you safety—but demands your soul in return.
It tells you that if you just plan enough, prepare better, anticipate every possible threat, and stay two steps ahead of disaster, then you’ll finally be okay.
It whispers, “If you get it right, nothing will fall apart. You can protect yourself. You can avoid the pain.”
So you rehearse conversations before they happen.
You obsess over tone and timing.
You predict outcomes before a situation even begins—just in case.
You try to prevent disappointment, disaster, and discomfort by micromanaging every detail.
And when that doesn’t work, you blame yourself for not controlling harder.
But underneath all that striving, perfection isn’t the goal.
Protection is the goal.
You’re not trying to be impressive. You’re just trying to be safe.
It makes sense, doesn’t it? Especially if you’ve been hurt before.
Especially if you’ve learned somewhere along the way that bad things happen when you let your guard down. So your mind goes into overdrive, trying to shield you from what might happen—trying to make sure you’re never blindsided again.
But here’s the hard truth:
The more you try to control,
the more anxious you become.
Because control isn’t peace—it’s pressure.
It turns your mind into a battlefield.
Your heart into a fortress.
Your body into a clenched, weary shell of its true self.
Control says, “If you’re vigilant enough, you’ll prevent the worst.”
But what it really creates is burnout. Exhaustion. And shame.
Because sooner or later, something will slip through your fingers.
And when it does, anxiety doesn’t comfort you.
It accuses you.
It says, “You should’ve seen this coming.”
“You didn’t try hard enough.”
“You failed.”
That’s the cruel trick of control—it convinces you that peace is just one more step ahead… if you just work a little harder.
But God offers another way.
Proverbs 3:5–6 says:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
Let those words settle.
It doesn’t say:
“Figure everything out.”
Or “Control your way to peace.”
It says:
“Trust. Submit. Release.”
You don’t need to understand everything.
You don’t need to predict or manage every outcome.
You need to trust the One who already sees the full picture. The One who is not thrown off by what surprises you. The One who holds time, and your heart, and your tomorrow—all without anxiety.
Surrender isn’t passive.
It’s not apathy.
It’s not irresponsibility.
Surrender is the brave act of loosening your grip and saying,
“God, I don’t have to be the one who holds this anymore.”
That doesn’t mean you stop caring.
It means you stop carrying what was never yours to hold.
And yes, that’s easier said than done—especially when your nervous system is trained to anticipate threats. Especially when you’ve been praised for being the one who “always has it together.” Especially when your fear has worn a mask of maturity.
But control never truly kept you safe.
It only kept you anxious.
So here’s a gentle practice to start peeling back the illusion:
Take a moment. Breathe deeply.
Then draw a line down the middle of a page.
On one side, write: What I Can Control.
On the other: What I Cannot.
Think slowly. Be honest.
What can you control?
You can control your breath.
Your pace.
Your responses.
Your rest.
Your perspective.
Your boundaries.
The words you speak.
The thoughts you choose to hold or release.
What can’t you control?
The past.
The future.
Other people’s opinions.
Their choices.
Their reactions.
Unforeseen circumstances.
Outcomes you desperately wish you could guarantee.
Let it all pour out onto the page.
Now, take your “can’t control” list and lay your hand over it.
Let your eyes rest on the words that represent so much fear, effort, and stress.
And whisper—aloud or in your heart:
“God, I surrender this to You.
I never had control over it.
And I don’t want the illusion anymore.”
This is what trust looks like in real life.
It’s not a vague feeling—it’s a specific, repeated choice.
You may have to do this again tomorrow. Or in an hour. Or five minutes from now. That’s okay. Surrender is not a one-time event—it’s a lifelong rhythm.
And every time you return to it, peace grows. Not because the world gets easier. But because your soul learns that safety isn’t found in control.
It’s found in God.
Let this become your prayer today:
“Lord, help me let go of what was never mine.
Help me stop managing what only You can redeem.
Help me rest—not in my plans, but in Your presence.”
You don’t need to run every scenario.
You don’t need to control every outcome.
You don’t need to be five steps ahead.
You just need to be near the One who already is.
So breathe again, my anxious soul.
You don’t have to be in charge.
You don’t have to hold it all together.
You’re not losing control—you’re giving it back to the One who never lost it in the first place.
And in His hands, you are finally safe.
Excerpted from the new book I released last month entitled Breathe Again, My Anxious Soul!: Because Peace Is Possible and Hope Is Closer Than You Thought.
Prefer a paperback? Check it out on Amazon!
I love this and needed the reminder today. Thank you.