There is something so comforting about control. As human beings, we like the feeling of safety that comes with predictability. When the journey ahead looks planned out, when the road appears straight and clear, when we can foresee what comes next—peace settles in easily. Control feels like security, and security feels like rest.
But life, in its true nature, is like a boat on open waters. The ocean does not promise stillness. Storms rise, winds shift, waves crash. A boat—no matter how well-built—cannot avoid being swung about at one point or another. In the same way, no matter how carefully we plan, life has its storms that threaten to overturn the calm we thought we had.
The question then arises: when the boat is rocking, can you still remain at rest? Can you hold your breath, not in anxiety, but in trust? Can you stay steady when the illusion of control is stripped away?
It is humbling but necessary to admit—some things will always be beyond our power. The weather is not ours to command, the waves are not ours to still. We do what we can with the oars in our hands, but there will always be forces greater than us. Accepting this is not weakness—it is wisdom.
Rest, then, does not come from perfect control. True rest is found in surrender, in knowing when to release what cannot be held. It is choosing to be calm inside even if the outside is chaotic. It is taking that deep breath and holding it down in your heart, knowing that peace is not the absence of storms, but the presence of steadiness within them.
So the next time the winds rise, pause. Take a deep breath. Hold it down there. Let it remind you: control is not the anchor. Trust is.