Childhood Vows: Breaking the Hidden Scripts That Shape Our Lives (Part 3 of 6)
Trust Over Control
By Pastor Mark Bonilla
Main Idea
Control often feels like protection, but beneath the need to control is usually a deeper fear. God never asks us to ignore our fears; He invites us to trust Him with them. Freedom begins when we surrender control to the One who is truly in control.
When Control Feels Safer Than Trust
Control is one of those things we rarely recognize in ourselves.
It's easy to see it in other people—the person who has to make every decision, the one who struggles to delegate, or the one who insists that everything be done a certain way.
But control wears many disguises.
Sometimes it looks like perfectionism.
Sometimes it's constant planning.
Sometimes it's anxiety.
Sometimes it's refusing to ask for help.
Sometimes it's keeping people at a distance because trusting them feels too risky.
At first glance, these habits may seem unrelated. Yet they often grow from the same hidden script:
"If I stay in control, I won't get hurt."
That belief usually doesn't appear overnight.
Like many childhood vows, it develops over time.
Perhaps someone broke your trust.
Perhaps life became unpredictable.
Perhaps the adults around you were inconsistent, absent, or unsafe.
As a child, control may have felt like the only way to survive.
As an adult, that same strategy can quietly become a prison.
The problem is that control promises security but never delivers peace.
The more we try to control everything around us, the more anxious we become when life refuses to cooperate.
Relationships become strained.
Disappointments become overwhelming.
And every unexpected turn feels like another reminder that we were never truly in control to begin with.
The hidden script keeps whispering,
"Don't let your guard down."
"Handle it yourself."
"Depending on others is too dangerous."
"If you want it done right, do it yourself."
Those thoughts may feel wise.
But are they true?
Pastor Mark reminds us that beneath our need for control is often something much deeper.
It isn't really about control.
It's about trust.
The Illusion of Control
If control is rooted in fear, then it's no surprise that the more uncertain life becomes, the tighter we hold on.
We try to manage every outcome.
We rehearse every conversation.
We anticipate every possible problem.
We convince ourselves that if we can just stay one step ahead, nothing can catch us by surprise.
But life has a way of reminding us that we are not nearly as in control as we would like to believe.
A diagnosis changes everything.
A job is lost.
A relationship falls apart.
A child makes a decision we never expected.
A carefully crafted plan suddenly unravels.
In moments like these, the illusion of control is exposed.
The truth is, we were never carrying the weight of the world.
We only thought we were.
That is exactly where many people in Scripture found themselves. Again and again, God allowed His people to come to the end of their own strength so they could discover the security of trusting Him.
One of the clearest examples is Abraham.
God promised him descendants as numerous as the stars, yet years passed and the promise remained unfulfilled. Humanly speaking, the situation became impossible. Abraham and Sarah grew old, and with every passing year the temptation to take control became stronger.
Instead of waiting on God's timing, they tried to accomplish God's promise through their own plan.
The result was heartache, conflict, and consequences that reached far beyond their own generation.
How often do we do the same?
God calls us to trust Him, but waiting feels unbearable.
So we take matters into our own hands.
We manipulate.
We pressure.
We force open doors that God has not opened.
We cling tightly to people, circumstances, or outcomes because we're afraid of what might happen if we let go.
Yet every attempt to control what belongs to God only increases our anxiety.
Control gives us the illusion of strength, but it cannot give us peace.
Peace comes from knowing that the One who holds the future is far more capable than we are.
That's why trust is not passive resignation. It is an active decision to place our confidence in God's character, even when we cannot see what He is doing.
The hidden script says,
"Everything depends on me."
Faith answers,
"Everything is in God's hands."
Those two beliefs cannot coexist.
Every day, we choose which one will shape the way we live.
Surrender Is Not Losing Control—It's Giving It to God
For many people, the word surrender sounds like defeat.
It feels like waving a white flag.
Like giving up.
Like admitting failure.
But that's not how the Bible describes surrender.
Biblical surrender isn't giving up on life.
It's giving control of your life to the One who has always been in control.
There's a tremendous difference.
When we insist on controlling everything ourselves, we're carrying a weight we were never created to bear.
We try to control people.
We try to control circumstances.
We even try to control God, bargaining with Him through our prayers or our efforts, hoping that if we do enough, life will unfold according to our plans.
But trust begins where control ends.
Jesus modeled this perfectly.
On the night before the cross, knowing exactly what lay ahead, He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. He didn't pretend the suffering wasn't real. He didn't hide His anguish or deny His desire for another way. Luke 22:42 (NIV)
Instead, He prayed,
"Yet not my will, but yours be done."
Those words are not the language of defeat.
They are the language of complete trust.
Jesus entrusted Himself to the Father, believing that even through unimaginable suffering, God was accomplishing a greater purpose.
The same invitation is extended to us.
Most of us will never face a moment as profound as Gethsemane, but we face countless smaller moments every day.
Will I trust God with my future?
Will I trust Him with my children?
With my marriage?
With my finances?
With my health?
With the unanswered prayers I've carried for years?
Those are the moments when hidden scripts are exposed.
The script says,
"If I don't take control, everything will fall apart."
God says,
"Trust Me. I am already there."
Trust doesn't mean we stop planning.
It doesn't mean we become passive or irresponsible.
We still make wise decisions.
We still work diligently.
We still prepare for the future.
But we do so with open hands instead of clenched fists.
We recognize that while we are responsible for our obedience, we are not responsible for controlling every outcome.
That responsibility belongs to God alone.
Perhaps that's why surrender feels so difficult.
It's not because God is untrustworthy.
It's because letting go forces us to confront what we've been trusting all along.
If our confidence has been in our own ability to manage life, surrender feels terrifying.
But if our confidence is in the goodness, wisdom, and faithfulness of God, surrender becomes the doorway to peace.
Real peace doesn't come from having everything under control.
It comes from knowing that the One who holds your life has never lost control.
And that's where fear begins to loosen its grip.
Choosing Trust Every Day
Most hidden scripts don't disappear overnight.
They are replaced one decision at a time.
Every day presents new opportunities to either cling to control or place our trust in God.
Sometimes those decisions seem small.
Do I trust God enough to forgive someone who hurt me?
Do I trust Him enough to stop worrying about something I cannot change?
Do I trust Him enough to obey His Word, even when it doesn't make sense from my perspective?
Do I trust Him enough to release my plans and embrace His?
Those choices reveal where our confidence truly lies.
The desire to control is often subtle. It can hide behind responsibility, preparation, or even good intentions. We tell ourselves we're simply being careful or organized, when in reality we're carrying burdens God never asked us to carry.
There is a difference between being responsible and trying to be sovereign.
God calls us to faithfulness.
He never asks us to take His place.
One of the greatest acts of faith is learning to say, "God, I'll obey You with what You've placed in my hands, and I'll trust You with everything beyond my control."
That is not weakness.
It is spiritual maturity.
It is recognizing that God's wisdom is greater than ours, His timing is better than ours, and His purposes extend far beyond what we can see. Proverbs 3:5–6 (NIV)
The hidden script says,
"I have to hold everything together."
God says,
"I am the One who holds all things together."
When we finally believe that, our grip begins to loosen.
We discover that peace isn't found in having all the answers.
Peace is found in knowing the One who does.
Perhaps today God is gently inviting you to identify the area of your life where you've been holding on the tightest.
Maybe it's your family.
Your future.
Your finances.
Your health.
Your reputation.
Or perhaps it's an old wound that has convinced you it's safer to stay in control than to trust again.
Whatever it is, remember this:
God has never asked you to carry the weight of tomorrow.
He simply asks you to trust Him today.
And today's trust becomes tomorrow's testimony.
Final Reflection
Control promises security, but it cannot deliver peace.
Only God can do that.
If you've spent years believing that everything depends on you, perhaps it's time to exchange that burden for something much lighter.
Jesus didn't invite us to carry the world on our shoulders.
He invited us to bring our burdens to Him.
The hidden vow says, "I must stay in control."
Jesus says, "Trust Me."
As you continue this journey through Childhood Vows, remember that freedom doesn't come from controlling every circumstance. It comes from knowing—and trusting—the God who is sovereign over them all.
This article is part thee of the six-part Childhood Vows series. Each Part explores one of the hidden scripts that can shape our lives—and how God, through His truth and grace, rewrites our story.
