Early in my career, I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders- mostly because, in many ways, it was on my shoulders. I was building a career, building an identity, and striving to achieve something that would impact the world. I was working so hard, walking on a high wire to build a brand, that I couldn’t risk some stray variable throwing off my game.

Now, on the other side of salvation, that mindset feels completely absurd, but that’s the strange mercy of becoming a new creation: the old you looks a little unhinged in hindsight. The old ambitions, the old fears, the old self‑made mythology—they all look paper‑thin once the light hits them.

The tricky part is that the habits we form, at work, at home, in the quiet corners of our personality, don’t evaporate the moment we’re saved. Many of these habits don’t even register as sins, they feel like quirks or preferences or Myers‑Briggs types. “It’s just how I’m wired.”

But some of those habits are not neutral, they are actually deeply self‑destructive. And being a control freak isn’t only self‑destructive- it can quietly erode every relationship in your life, including your relationship with God.

I’m not speaking theoretically. The art of letting go is something I’ve had to work at with intention, prayer, and a lot of uncomfortable honesty over many years. And interestingly, it’s one of the main things I end up mentoring people on in my corporate leadership role. Control‑obsession is practically a corporate virtue, no matter how much HR talks about work‑life balance or “exhaustion not being a badge of honor.” I see it everywhere. Firefighting is celebrated and boundary enforcement is perceived as a lack of ambition.

I don’t know if it affects women more than men, but I do know this: control-obsession lands differently on women. It weighs heavier on her soul. Women are designed to submit at a different level, first to God, then within the relationships He’s ordered, and the Type A, hyper‑independent superwoman persona can become an affront to that design. It’s not just exhausting; it’s spiritually disorienting.

Most of the people I mentor at work aren’t Christians, but I am, and my guidance is shaped by Scripture whether I say that out loud or not. I’ll admit I’m sometimes perhaps too cautious about bringing overtly biblical language into corporate spaces. But as trust grows, I stop translating. I stop softening. I start sharing the verses and theological truths that actually anchor the advice and transparently share the Gospel.

What follows here is the fully Christian version of what I coach people on every week—the version I wish I could hand out in the office without needing a disclaimer.

That’s really where this whole conversation lands- control isn’t just a personality quirk; it’s a spiritual formation issue. It shapes how we work, how we relate, how we pray, and how we trust. And because it’s so deeply woven into our habits, it has to be unwoven with intention.

That’s why I’ve learned to treat surrender not as a feeling but as a rhythm. Something practiced. Something embodied. Something I can return to when my instincts try to drag me back into self‑reliance.

Over time, I’ve built simple tools—small liturgies, really—that help me shift from white‑knuckled striving into open‑handed trust. These are the same frameworks I use when mentoring others, and the same ones I return to when my own grip tightens.

They’re not magic. They’re not formulas. They’re just gentle scaffolding for a heart learning to trust God more than itself.

This is the inner work—the rhythm of the heart. It begins with a liturgy.

The Liturgy of the Open Hand

I. The Morning Offering

To be read before looking at the calendar or the to-do list

The Call: “Commit your works to the Lord, And your plans will be established.” - Proverbs 16:3

The Response: I lay my plans at the foot of the throne. I acknowledge that I am a steward, not the owner, of this day’s work. If the path changes, I will trust the Guide. If the door closes, I will trust the Architect. My success is not my identity; my obedience is my offering.

The Action: Identify one item on your list you are most anxious about. Verbally say: “Lord, I give you the outcome of [task]. I will work, but You will provide.”

II. The Mid-Day Alignment

To be read during the heat of the work, especially when tension rises.

The Call: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He will make your paths straight.” -Proverbs 3:5-6

The Response: When I feel the urge to force, I will choose to follow. When I feel the need to micromanage, I will remember the Spirit’s lead. I reject the lie that I am alone in this. I lean not on my competence, but on Your providence.

The Action: Take a 60-second “Holy Inaction” break. Stop everything. Sit with open palms on your lap. Do nothing. Remind your nervous system that the world continues to turn without your interference.

III. The Evening Release

To be read when the laptop closes or the tools are put away. When the work is done.

The Call: “It is vain for you to rise up early, to retire late, to eat the bread of painful labors; For He gives to His beloved even in his sleep.” -Psalm 127:2

The Response: The work is finished for now, and what is unfinished is in Your hands. I worked heartily for You, and now I rest for You. I will not carry the weight of tomorrow’s worries into tonight’s peace. I trust that Your grace covers my gaps and Your power perfects my weakness.

The Action: Physically “check off” the day. Write down three things that went “wrong” or “unplanned” and find one way God’s hand might have been in the detour.

Rhythm of the Heart, Motion of the Feet

A liturgy shapes the heart, but habits shape the day.

Once the heart is re‑oriented, the grip loosens and the shoulders drop, you still have to walk out your actual life. Emails still arrive. Projects still need to be started, sustained, and finished. Interruptions still happen. Anxiety still whispers. Deadlines still loom.

This is where many of us get stuck. We feel spiritually aligned in the morning, but by 2PM we’re back to micromanaging outcomes and trying to outrun our own limitations.

That’s why I pair the liturgy with something incredibly practical: checklists.

Not as a way to control the day, but as a way to practice the surrender the liturgy awakens. The liturgy softens the heart; the checklists train the hands and feet. One forms your inner world; the other guides your outer actions. Together, they create a rhythm of faith that is both contemplative and concrete.

So, after the liturgy has done its quiet work, here’s how I move through the day, and my projects, with intention.

The Launchpad Checklist (As You Begin A Project)

1. The Motive Audit: Am I doing this for my own glory, or is this a way to serve others and honor God?
2. The Open Hand Commitment: I have a plan, but am I willing to let God change the How or When?
3. The “If the Lord Wills” Clause: Verbally or mentally acknowledge that the outcome isn’t 100% in your hands.

The Steady Pulse Checklist (Daily Alignment)

1. Morning Surrender: Did I give the ‘to do’ list to God before I started checking off boxes today?
2. The Pivot Test: When an interruption happened today, did I see it as a nuisance or a potential divine appointment?
3. The Anxiety Release: When I feel the need to force a result, have I stopped to pray instead of push?

The Sabbath Finish checklist (Closing It Out)

1. The Excellence Check: Did I work with integrity and give my best effort, regardless of who was watching?
2. The Outcome Relinquishment: I have done the work; now, do I trust God to handle the results that are outside my control?
3. The Gratitude Close: Can I find one way God showed up in this project that had nothing to do with my own effort?

Learning to loosen your grip is not a one‑time victory; it’s a lifelong apprenticeship. Some days you’ll feel steady and surrendered. Other days you’ll feel the old instincts rise up like muscle memory. That doesn’t mean you’re failing, it means you’re human. It means you’re being formed. To see how I put some of these checklists into action, check out my post on preparing to leave one job while waiting for another.

The goal isn’t to become the kind of person who never struggles with control again. The goal is to become the kind of person who knows where to go when the struggle shows up. A person who returns, again and again, to the One who holds all things together, including you.

The liturgy helps your heart remember. The checklists help your feet obey. And grace holds the whole thing when you can’t.

So, take a breath. Open your hands. Begin again tomorrow with the same simple posture: “Lord, this day is Yours. Teach me to trust You with it.”

And He will.

The Red Phone: When Anxiety Overwhelms

Even with a liturgy and good habits, there will be days when the anxiety hits like a wave. When your chest tightens, your thoughts scatter, and surrender feels impossible. This is the moment you don’t need a checklist or a posture—you need a lifeline.

For me, that lifeline is memory.

When the panic rises, I reach for the stories God has already written in my life. I remember the times He sent me somewhere unexpected and it turned out beautifully. I look at my husband, my children, my home, my work- every good and perfect gift—and I remember that I didn’t orchestrate any of it. I didn’t mastermind my way into blessing. I didn’t write this story. God did.

When I was writing my own story, I made a mess of it. But when I stopped gripping the pen and let Him lead, where I ended up was better than anything I could have imagined.

So when the fear rises again (and it will) I return to the same truth that steadies me every time: the God who has carried me this far will not fail me now.