Give Up the Illusion of Control: Trust the God Who Holds You

As we continue our Lenten journey to “return to God with all your heart,” we’ve been reflecting on the things that keep us from drawing close to God. For you, is it busyness and distraction? The need for perfection—or to always be right? Or perhaps it’s the deep desire to stay in control?

Few things are harder to release than our sense of control. We hold tightly to schedules, expectations, and plans because they offer a sense of security. Yet Lent invites us to look honestly at this impulse and recognize that our need for control often grows not from faith but from fear—fear that everything might fall apart, fear of disappointing others, fear that God won’t show up in the way we hope. Throughout Scripture, God continually calls us to trust not in our own strength, but in Him.

Letting go of control does not mean becoming passive. It means shifting our weight. Instead of relying solely on our own understanding, we lean into the God who knows us fully. Instead of tightening our grip, we practice loosening it—through prayer, silence, stillness, or even the simple act of taking a deep breath. When we surrender our anxieties and outcomes to God, we discover a peace rooted not in everything going right, but in God’s unfailing presence with us.

This week, pay attention to where the Spirit may be inviting you to release your hold. A worry? A plan? A “should”? As we surrender the illusion of control, we remember whose hands we rest in—the hands of a God who is endlessly tender, endlessly trustworthy, and endlessly near.

To “return to God with all your heart” requires trust. Trust the God who holds you.

The Weight of Being Right

As we move through Lent and seek to "return to God with all our heart," we often face a stubborn obstacle: our need to be right. In a culture where debate and self-justification are everywhere, we often cling to being right. And in holding tight, we leave little room for grace to reach us.  We focus on the faults of others to avoid facing our own, turning even our own virtues into walls that separate us from God.

This week, consider "fasting" from the need to be right and the urge to judge our neighbours. Returning to God means coming with the humility of the tax collector who could only pray, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" When we stop defending our own goodness, we finally become still enough to hear God.

Practice letting go of criticism and from the quiet instinct to protect your ego. At the foot of the Cross, we all stand on equal ground—where what matters is not our own rightness, but the righteousness and grace Christ freely gives us. 

At the foot of the cross - we are on equal ground.

Dropping the Mask

Dropping the Mask
In our Lutheran tradition, we speak of being both saint and sinner. We often spend our lives trying to hide the "sinner" part behind a mask of "having it all together." This week on our Lenten journey to return to God with all our heart, let's identify the "perfect" versions of ourselves we’ve worked so hard to build and give up the exhausting act of pretending we don’t struggle. When we cling to these masks, we create a barrier between our real selves and God’s love. The truth is, God doesn’t need the person you are pretending to be; He wants the person you actually are.

By "giving up" our masks, we stop trying to impress God. Instead, we simply trust that through our Baptism, we are already wrapped in Christ’s goodness and fully accepted by Him. It is a relief to admit we are broken, because that is exactly where God meets us. This week, as you let go of the need to appear "put together," may you find that the less you hide, the more room there is for God’s light to shine through the cracks. 

Turning Off the Noise

Following Jesus into the wilderness, this first week of Lent invites us to look at the "clutter" of noise and busyness that drowns out God’s voice. For many of us, the main thing getting in our way isn't a "big sin," but a thousand small distractions. We fill every quiet moment with our phones, music, social media, or endless "to-do" lists because silence can feel uncomfortable. This week, fast from the constant noise we use to stay distracted. By stepping back from the digital world or our hectic schedules, we create a space where we can actually hear what God is saying to us.

The goal would be a simple change of heart. By letting go of the need to stay "constantly busy," we realize how much we’ve been trying to do everything on our own without ever looking to God. Luther reminds us that faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, a quiet trust in God’s love, but it’s hard to feel that trust when we never sit still. This week, as you clear your schedule or put down your phone, remember that you aren't just giving something up—you are making room to be found in the quiet by the God who loves you.

At the heart of Lent

On Ash Wednesday, Pastor Susan Climo welcomed us into the season of Lent with a reminder that it is about far more than simply giving up chocolate, or wine — or even both. Her words invited us to see Lent not as a checklist of sacrifices, but as an opportunity for intention. It is a season to examine what stands between us and a deeper relationship with God, and to gently lay those things aside.

In the Book of Joel 2, we hear the call to “return to the Lord your God.” That invitation captures the heart of Lent. It is not about outward deprivation for its own sake, but about turning — reorienting our hearts, habits, and attention back toward God. If we embrace Lent this way, it becomes less about what we are giving up and more about whom we are drawing near to.

May you have a blessed Lent as you turn to God.