Peace When You Don’t Have Control

Read

Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Think

We live in a world that glorifies control. We’re told that if we plan well enough, prepare hard enough, and push forward consistently, we can shape our outcomes. And while wisdom, discipline, and preparation all matter, there comes a point in every life where control slips through our fingers. It might be a diagnosis. A financial setback. A relationship that changes. A dream that doesn’t pan out. Or a plan that, despite all your effort, still falls apart. In those moments, peace can feel like a distant dream—something reserved for people whose lives are more predictable, more manageable, more “together.”

Psalm 46:10 offers a radically different way to think about peace: “Be still, and know that I am God.” Not, “Fix it all.” Not, “Control everything.” Just—be still. Let go. Stop reaching for the wheel. Why? Because peace doesn’t come from having control. Peace comes from knowing the One who does. Stillness in Scripture isn’t passive. It’s a form of surrender. It’s a declaration that says, “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I know who God is. I know his heart. I know his track record. And I trust that he’s not just aware of what I’m walking through—he’s in it with me.”

The more we try to grip control, the more anxious we become. Because deep down, we know we’re not really in charge of the outcomes. We can influence. We can lead. We can pray, prepare, and plan. We just can’t control people. We can’t guarantee the results. We can’t see the future. Trying to do what only God can do will eventually exhaust you.

Peace begins when you let God be God. When you stop rehearsing every possible outcome in your mind. When you pause the what-ifs and fix your mind on what’s true: he is still sovereign. He is still good. He is still near. This doesn’t mean you give up on effort or initiative. It means your effort flows from trust, not panic. Your actions are grounded, not grasping. When you realize that the outcome is not your job—that your job is to trust, obey, and abide—your shoulders start to relax. Your heart quiets down. Your soul can breathe again.

Often, it’s in the release of control that God’s peace floods in. Not because the situation changes, but because you do. You begin to realize that peace was never about having the perfect plan. It was about having the right perspective. A perspective that says, “Even here—even now—he is still God.” When you live from that place, it changes the way you move through the world. You stop over-functioning. You stop trying to fix everyone around you. You stop reacting out of fear and start responding with faith. You show up with calm instead of chaos—not because everything is under control, but because you’ve stopped needing it to be.

There’s a deep kind of peace available to you today. But you won’t find it in your plans. You’ll find it in your posture. A posture of surrender. A heart that says, “God, I trust you with what I can’t control.” That kind of trust opens the door to peace you didn’t even know you needed.

Apply

What’s one situation right now where you’ve been trying to hold on to control? Name it specifically. Then, physically open your hands in prayer and say, “God, this belongs to you.” You may need to say it more than once today. Let that act be your step toward stillness and trust.

Pray

God, I confess that I want to control things I can’t. I hold onto outcomes that were never mine to manage. But you are still God, and I am still yours. Help me surrender what I can’t fix. Help me rest in who you are. Let your peace meet me in the letting go. In Jesus’ name. Amen.