Are You Following God or Just Looking for Control?
I have a confession: sometimes I say I’m following God, but deep down I’m holding the reins. It’s a subtle, uneasy feeling – like I’m doing all the “right” Christian things, yet still orchestrating outcomes to fit my plans. I’ll pray for God’s will, but secretly hope His will aligns with what I’ve already decided. Can you relate? At times I catch myself clinging to a sense of control even as I profess to trust God. It’s led me to an uncomfortable but necessary question: Am I truly following God, or just looking for control?
On the outside, it’s easy to appear faithful – to go to church, read Scripture, and say, “God, I trust You.” But beneath the surface, we might still be white-knuckling our circumstances. I notice it when my heart churns with anxiety over things I’ve supposedly “surrendered” to God. Perhaps I haven’t really surrendered at all. In my own life, I’ve realized my desire for control often leaks out in subtle ways like anxious pacing, perfectionism, or quietly manipulating situations. I might insist I’m “just being responsible,” but often it’s my fear masquerading as wisdom. The truth is, I want guarantees. I want to know that if I do my part, nothing will spin out of control.
It’s humbling to admit that my outward obedience can sometimes be a means to an end – a way to convince myself (and God) that He owes me a smooth path. I’ll follow God, yes... as long as I still feel in control. Ouch. That realization stings. It reminds me of the Pharisees in the Bible who did all the right things outwardly but missed the point inwardly. While I’m not scheming to look “religious,” I do catch myself bargaining with God in my heart: “I’ll obey You, Lord, but please just let things go my way.” In those moments, I’m not really following His lead – I’m asking Him to follow mine.
Why is it so hard to let go of control? For me, it often comes down to trust. Do I trust God enough to hand over the keys of my life? One of my favorite scriptures (and simultaneously one of the most challenging) is Proverbs 3:5-6: “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.”
This verse sounds so reassuring on paper – who wouldn’t want straight paths and God’s direction? But the requirement is total trust, with all my heart, and a refusal to rely on my own understanding of how things should go. In practice, that is hard. My own understanding is tangible and immediate; trusting God often means waiting in the unknown.
If I’m honest, I often prefer my own understanding because it gives me a sense of control. I map out solutions, backup plans, and what-if scenarios to feel secure. Trusting God asks me to set those aside and say, “Lord, even if I don’t see how this works, I’ll trust You.” It’s choosing faith over fear of the unknown. Corrie ten Boom once said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”
That quote comforts me, because it gently exposes my fear: I’m afraid of the unknown future. But it also reminds me who I’m trusting – a known God, a good and faithful Father who has carried me this far.
Still, the tension remains. My mind whispers, “What if God’s plan hurts? What if it’s not what I want?” Trust doesn’t mean those questions disappear; it means bringing them to God and choosing to trust Him in spite of the fears. It reminds me of when Jesus called Peter to step out of the boat and walk on water. Peter had to literally leave the solid surface (his own understanding of physics!) and trust that Jesus would hold him up. Likewise, God sometimes calls me to step beyond what I can control, to let go of my logic and plans. Not that planning or using wisdom is wrong – but I must hold even my best plans loosely, ready to pivot if God directs differently.
Scripture anchors me in this struggle. “In all your ways acknowledge Him,” Proverbs says, “and He will make your paths straight.” I often repeat that to myself when I’m tempted to grab control. Acknowledging God in everything means consulting Him first, seeking His will and timing, and yes, sometimes yielding my understanding when He prompts a different way. It’s a day-by-day learning process of trusting His heart, even when I can’t trace His hand.
One area where my desire for control really shows up is timing. I don’t know about you, but I hate waiting. Patience is not my natural virtue. When I sense God leading me toward something, I want to see progress now. And if there’s a delay or a detour, I start getting restless. In those seasons of waiting, I often catch myself trying to “help” God along – as if the Creator of time somehow needs my project management skills! It sounds absurd, but I do it. I’ll take matters into my own hands, or at least worry incessantly, when I feel things aren’t moving fast enough.
The Bible is full of examples of people who struggled with God’s timing. Think of Abraham and Sarah: God promised them a child, but as years passed, they grew impatient. Sarah ended up urging Abraham to have a child with her servant Hagar, essentially taking control of the situation (and creating a lot of heartache in the process). I see myself in that story. When I’m convinced I know what I need and God seems slow, I’m tempted to force an outcome. But every time I’ve rushed ahead of God, I’ve discovered that my timing was inferior to His. I’ve learned (and am still learning) that delays are not denials – often God is working in ways I can’t see, preparing me or others, lining up the right circumstances, or simply teaching me to rely on Him in the waiting.
Waiting can be an act of trust. It’s a form of surrender, saying, “God, I trust Your clock more than mine.” Honestly, sometimes I pray with one eye on the clock, giving God deadlines that He graciously ignores. In those moments, He’s actually growing my faith. He’s reminding me that He is sovereign and I am not. 2 Peter 3:8 says, “With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like a day.” His perspective on timing is so much broader than mine. When I insist on immediate answers or quick results, I may miss the beautiful work God is doing in the slow, unseen places of my heart.
So I’m learning to ask in the waiting, “God, what do You want me to learn or do in this season, instead of me trying to rush out of it?” That shift in question transforms waiting from a torturous limbo into a valuable classroom. It’s still not easy – I won’t pretend that I’ve mastered it. But even here, I sense God gently inviting me: “Will you follow Me even here, even now? Will you trust that I know what I’m doing – with your job, your relationships, your dreams – better than you do?” Every time I say “yes,” I loosen my grip on control just a little more, and my heart inches closer to genuine surrender.
Jesus never sugar-coated what it means to follow Him. In the Gospel of Matthew, He lays it out boldly: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Deny myself – that’s the opposite of clinging to control. Jesus continues, “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”
It’s as if He’s saying, “Trying to cling to your life, to control every aspect, is actually a path to losing what really matters. But if you let go, if you surrender your life to Me, you’ll discover what real life is.” This strikes right at the heart of my struggle. Jesus knows our instinct is to save ourselves – to hold on, to protect, to control. And He flips the script: true life, true fulfillment, comes in letting go for His sake.
Surrender is not a one-time event. In fact, another Gospel (Luke 9:23) adds the word “daily” – “take up [your] cross daily.” Every day I have to re-surrender my need for control. It’s a daily yielding of my plans, my rights, my understanding to Jesus. Sometimes it feels like a death – dying to my desire to run the show. But Jesus frames it as a paradoxical path to life. When I have actually surrendered in certain areas, I’ve found freedom. It’s ironic: the more I release my white-knuckle grip, the more peace I gain. When I stop trying to play God in my own life, I become more aware of God’s loving leadership.
Yet, surrender doesn’t mean passivity or apathy. It doesn’t mean I shrug and say “whatever happens, happens.” It means actively entrusting myself to God’s care and obeying His directions. There’s a big difference between running ahead of God and walking beside Him. I want to walk beside Him. For me, that looks like prayerfully checking in: “Lord, is this of You, or am I pushing my own agenda?” It looks like being willing to change course if I sense God saying “no” or “wait.” It looks like continuing to do what’s right (in work, relationships, ministry) even when I don’t see immediate results or rewards, trusting that God sees and honors obedience in His time.
One thing that helps me is remembering who God is. If I view God as harsh or uncaring, of course I’ll struggle to surrender control – I’d feel safer keeping control myself. But when I remember God’s character – His goodness, His wisdom, His unconditional love demonstrated at the cross – it becomes more natural to trust Him. I think of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, agonizing over the upcoming crucifixion. He was honest about His desire (“Father, if possible, take this cup from me”), yet ultimately said, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” That is the purest example of surrender. Jesus trusted the Father’s will, even though it meant unspeakable suffering, because He also trusted the Father’s ultimate plan and goodness. His surrender brought about the greatest good in history – our salvation. While my daily surrenders are on a much smaller scale, the principle is similar: God can bring tremendous good out of our obedience and trust, even when it’s hard.
I often have to check my heart and ask hard questions. Below are a few honest questions I’m learning to ask myself. Perhaps they can help you too discern whether you’re truly following God or holding onto control:
Whose plan am I really pursuing? Am I open to God changing my direction, or do I only follow Him when it matches my plan?
Do I pray with a posture of surrender or demand? Am I seeking God’s will or simply asking Him to bless my will? For example, when I pray about decisions, do I leave room for “if it be Your will,” or am I secretly saying “please make this happen”?
How do I react when things don’t go my way? If a door closes or life takes an unexpected turn, do I freak out and rush to fix it, or do I take a breath and seek God’s guidance? My reaction often reveals whether I was trusting God or just expecting Him to stick to my script.
Am I obeying God in the little things? Sometimes I want God’s big guidance for the future, but I ignore the small steps of obedience He’s asking of me today. True followers are faithful in the daily, humble steps (forgiving someone, being honest, serving quietly) even when those steps aren’t glamorous. If I skip those, I might be more into control (choosing what I think matters) than submission.
Is there an area I’m afraid to let God handle? Maybe it’s finances, a relationship, or a personal dream. I might say “God, I trust You,” but then keep that area off-limits because I’m afraid of what He’ll do with it. Identifying these areas can be painful, but it shows me where I need to invite God in and relinquish control.
These questions often lead me back to prayer. If I realize I’ve been clinging to control (and it happens more than I’d like to admit), I go back to God and talk about it. The beautiful thing is, God is gracious. He doesn’t reject us for struggling with this. Instead, He invites us gently: “Trust me here. Let Me lead – I won’t abandon you.” Each time I respond and let Him lead a little more, I grow. It’s a journey of progress, not perfection.
When we finally loosen our grip on control, we make room for God’s peace to flood in. I remember a time I was wrestling fiercely with a decision about my career. I had analyzed it to death and was terrified of making the “wrong” choice – because I didn’t want to step outside of God’s will, but I also really wanted a particular outcome. The turmoil went on for weeks. Eventually, exhausted, I surrendered. I told God, “Even if You lead me down a path I wouldn’t have chosen on my own, I’ll trust You. I’ll follow.” In that moment, I felt an unexpected peace. The circumstances hadn’t changed at all – I still didn’t know what would happen – but something in me had changed. By releasing my need to control the future, I was able to receive God’s calm assurance in the present. And as it turned out, God did lead me in a direction I hadn’t originally considered, and it was good. He proved (yet again) that He knew what He was doing.
I’m slowly discovering that following God for real – not just in appearance, but with a surrendered heart – is the safest place to be, even when it feels risky. There’s a profound relief in not having to be my own savior all the time. I can rest in the fact that God is in control, and I am not. As the Apostle Paul writes in Philippians 4:6-7, when we present our worries to God with thanksgiving, “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” That peace comes when we let go of the illusion of control and trust that God’s got us guarded.
The difference between following God and looking for control ultimately comes down to the posture of our hearts. One posture says, “Lord, I’m yours, have Your way.” The other says, “Lord, I’m yours, but please do it my way.” I’ve lived both, and one thing I know: only one of those postures brings peace. Jesus kindly warns us that gaining the whole world (having everything under control by our own efforts) could still result in losing our soul (Matthew 16:26). He’s teaching me that nothing I think I gain by controlling can compare to what I gain by trusting Him.
Following God means surrendering control, yes – but it also means stepping into a life richer and more secure than anything my control could manufacture. It means trading my constant striving with a steady confidence that “The Lord is directing my steps.” It’s choosing to believe that God’s plan, even if it passes through hardship or delays, will always be for my ultimate good and His glory (Romans 8:28).
So, are you following God or just looking for control? If you find, like me, that the answer isn’t as pretty as you’d hoped, take heart. God already knows our tendencies and He’s ready to help us grow. Each new day (and each anxious thought) is another chance to release our grip and say, “Lord, I choose Your way, not mine.” It’s in that place of surrender that we truly become followers of Jesus – and there we find the joy, freedom, and purpose we’ve been longing for all along.
Let’s encourage one another to trust God wholeheartedly and lean not on our own understanding. The path may twist and turn beyond what we can foresee, but our known God holds that unknown future in His faithful hands. And as we follow Him – really follow, with hearts open and hands off the wheel – we will discover that His leadership is perfect and His peace is real. After all, He is God and we are not... and that is a very good thing.
