If the COVID pandemic has showed me anything, it is just how little control we have over our daily circumstances. This truth first became clear to me in 2008, when I was dying of cancer, fighting for my life.
Every morning, I must once again release my death grip on the wheel and let God take me in the direction He would have me go.
In the heat of battle back in 2008, I was inspired to write about letting go of the wheel.
Sometimes I feel so foolish.
I mean, I am in a raging storm at sea here and things look really bleak! My entire being strains as I grapple with the boat wheel against the tremendous force of each crushing wave. My hands are clamped to the wheel like a vice and they hurt from holding on so tightly, and for so long. “Never let go!” I shout to myself. Between the high wind, the pelting rain, and the saltwater spray, I can’t see past the bow of the boat. I blink my eyes as seldom as possible for fear of missing that one huge wave that would capsize me and seal my fate in an instant. My eyes burn from staring into the weather. My body shakes fiercely as adrenaline puts all bodily systems on emergency alert. Thoughts begin to creep into my head that my doom is near.
Suddenly, I realize that Jesus is going to have to pry my cold dead hands off this wheel unless I let go of it; right now! Immediately, my hands fly off the wheel as though it were a red-hot branding iron.
And then, Jesus calms the sea.