We’re Not in Control

I flew in an airplane for the first time when I was 22. I was scared to death. I remember calling my mom as I waited at the gate, a grown man on the verge of tears.

Fear wasn’t my only emotion, though. Excitement also coursed through my veins. When the plane finally lifted itself from the runway, I sat at the window, eyes transfixed on the distancing ground, marveling at the defiance of gravity. And as the landscape beneath shrank in size, recognizable structures blurring into vague blocks of line and color, so too did my fears.

Until the plane introduced me to a little thing called turbulence. The plane then shook and rattled my anxiety back into place, and I’ve struggled with flying ever since.

Six years have passed since that first flight, and over time my fear of flying has lessened, but it’ll never leave me completely. I value control far too much to ever wholly conquer my flying fears.

This all occurred to me this weekend as I flew to San Francisco for a work conference. After the takeoff jitters and palm sweats subsided, my muscles relaxed and I sank back into my seat and closed my eyes. Rest. Just relax and rest, I told myself.

Moments later, turbulence. Nothing major; the slightest of rumblings, really. But what did I find myself doing? Eyes wide, fists tightened, muscles clinched.

Moment of Clarity

The moment rewarded me an opportunity of existential observation, and I almost laughed at the scene before me. Let’s just say that worst case scenario was actually happening. What did I think I could do about it? If the plane was in fact going down, could I stop it by opening my eyes and bracing myself?

Of course not.

But there I was, on the edge of my seat prepared for the inevitable. It’s as if my mind and body subconsciously prepared to do something, anything, if needed.

News flash – the pilot doesn’t need your help, Matt. As it pertains to flying planes, especially handling turbulence, he is infinitely more qualified than you. He’s smarter, more trained, and he knows what he’s doing.

We’re Not in Control

I hate not being in control. In those moments of turbulence, my fear is heightened because I know there’s nothing I can do to help. In reality, it’s in my best interest that I can’t do anything. If provided the opportunity to actually take control, I would fly the plane straight into the ground.

Thank God I’m not in control.

Many of us approach life this way, too. Control your own destiny. What a thought.

What a sham, really.

We don’t control our destiny any more than I control mine 30,000 feet in the air. This rubs me wrong in life just as much, if not more, than it does on a plane. There are things in our lives that are out of our control, and there’s not a single thing we can do to change that.

Tragedy strikes from nowhere, unannounced and unimpeded, like pockets of turbulence. Life as we know it, smooth and peaceful, erupts into a shaky, fragile mess. Before we know it, we feel as though we’re in a free fall, and all we can do is stay seated, seat belts fastened, and rely on Someone else to steer us to safety.

We think we know how best to pilot our own lives, but we don’t. We haven’t cracked the first book on the subject. We kid ourselves if we think we’re wise enough to actually control our own destinies.

Thank God we’re not in control.

Easy to say, hard to believe. Especially in life’s turbulence. When bad things happen – when life doesn’t go according to plan – and all we know is the painful, terrifying sensation of free-fall, instinct tells us to open our eyes, clinch our muscles, and prepare to take control. Rush to the cockpit and grab the wheel from the Pilot if necessary.

Bad decision.

God is infinitely more qualified than we are to steer our lives. He is the definition, the very embodiment, of wisdom, and He knows exactly what He’s doing – despite the way free-fall makes us feel.

This weekend’s moment of clarity reminded me of this truth, and for the briefest of moments I was able to actually relax a bit, even amidst the turbulence. I told myself the truth – Matt, the pilot knows what he’s doing. He’s trained for this. Relax. Even if the pilot lost control, the plane was ultimately in the hands of a greater Pilot.

Again, really buying into this truth – really believing it at the core of our being – is much easier said than done. But, God offers us unparalleled freedom and peace if we take hold of Him and let go of our pseudo control. Let’s stop playing pretend and acting like we can orchestrate a best life for ourselves. God is in control, He loves us, and He alone will steer our lives to Safety.