Parenting hasn't actually been the topic of our
Sunday school class lately. However, we've been
studying the church as a whole. But without fail,
every single week, we end up sliding into a massive
side conversation about the micro -community
inside of our homes. Because the second you start
talking about the health of the church, the reality
of the family unit immediately crashes the party.
And look. We talk about the practical, survival
-level logistics, like managing frantic calendars,
enforcing bedtime routines, negotiating snacks,
or tracking down missing shoes. Though, honestly,
there's an ongoing theological mystery as to
how a child can successfully locate one microscopic
piece of candy hidden in the deep recesses of
your home somewhere, and yet cannot locate their
own shoes when they're sitting directly in front
of their face on an open floor. Now, that's a
question for another day, though. But when the
class slides into the side conversation and it
starts rolling, we always find our way to the
deeper, heavier side of the parenting gig, discipleship
and spiritual formation. What it actually looks
like to lead the microchurch in your living room
in the fear and instruction of the Lord. And
man, that conversation gets incredibly heavy,
incredibly fast. Because if you love your kids,
You don't just want them to behave. You don't
just want them to pull straight A's, display
decent table manners, make smart choices, and
eventually become functioning adults who can
schedule a dentist appointment. You want them
to truly know Christ. You want their hearts to
be soft towards the Lord, to love Scripture,
to walk in wisdom, and to repent when they sin.
You want them to build their lives on something
rock solid instead of whatever cultural garbage
the world is selling them this week. Those are
holy, beautiful desires. And scripture gives
us a massive, non -negotiable responsibility
to chase them. We are called to teach, pray,
discipline, love, model repentance, and point
towards Jesus over and over again. That isn't
optional. It's basic obedience. But here's where
the tension gets incredibly uncomfortable. We
cannot save them. We know that theologically.
If we were talking about this or taking a multiple
choice exam on the church, we'd all circle the
right answer. Salvation belongs entirely to the
Lord. Our kids aren't saved by our flawless consistency,
our parenting philosophies, our schooling choices,
or our pristine family devotional schedules.
They are saved. by grace through faith in Christ,
period. But functionally, in the frantic daily
grind, we completely forget it. We start treating
faithful parenting like a retail transaction
that should come with a lifetime warranty. We
think, if I just say the exact right things,
if I curate the perfect peer groups and block
the wrong influences, if I pick the ultimate
devotional app, and handle every discipline moment
flawlessly, then I can personally guarantee how
their story ends. And just like that, holy obedience
mutates into suffocating pressure. Discipleship
turns into strict corporate management, love
turns into baseline anxiety, and we ask our faithfulness
to carry a sovereign weight. It was never engineered
to support. God calls us to be faithful stewards.
of our children, but he never gave us a remote
control for their hearts. That boundary line
matters, and it stretches far beyond parenting.
Most of us have an area of our life where we
are doing exactly what God asked us to do, but
underneath the surface, we are still desperately
trying to own the ending. We are obeying, but
we're white -knuckling. We're praying, But we're
micromanaging. We're showing up but quietly assuming
that if we perform well enough, God owes us the
perfect result. So let me ask the hard question
as we open. Can you obey God faithfully without
trying to sit in his seat? Can you love deeply
without pretending you're sovereign? Can you
keep showing up with completely open hands even
when you don't get to decide how the script resolves?
Because letting go of the outcome is not the
same thing as throwing in the towel. It's leaning
into trusting God and what only God can carry.
Welcome to Grace in the Grind, brought to you
by Arrow & Roots Coffee Company, where faith
meets the everyday. Here, we take time to notice
God's presence right in the middle of life's
busiest moments, to find real encouragement,
clarity, and a reminder of His grace. right in
the daily grind of life. So grab your coffee,
and let's take a sip of this cup together. Now
before we go any further, I've got some really
sad news for you today. I'm still in a hotel
in the Fort Worth area, and I'm out of good coffee.
So today, in my cup, because of the busiest moments
and all of the struggles, Hilton's Coffee. It's
okay. It's not what I want. But sometimes, it's
okay to just drink what we have, right? Today
we're talking about drawing a hard line between
our assignment and God's sovereignty. And let's
establish this clearly right up front. Letting
go of the outcome is not the same thing as giving
up. It's not passivity. It's not spiritual laziness.
And it's not shrugging your shoulders at messy
situations or saying, Well, God is sovereign,
so I guess it doesn't matter what I do. That's
not biblical faith. That is just disobedience
wearing church clothes. Scripture commands us
to act, to plan wisely, work hard, teach our
kids, love spouses, disciple people, pursue holiness,
and show up faithfully exactly where God has
placed us. But scripture never, under any circumstance,
hands us the ownership of the ending. That is
a massive tension. And it's a tension we rarely
feel until it touches something we love. It's
easy to say God is in control when life feels
like a theoretical theological outline. It's
a whole lot harder when you're on your knees
praying for a wandering child. You are desperately
trying to repair broken trust in a marriage.
You're discipling someone who keeps making self
-destructive choices that terrify you. You have
poured blood, sweat, and tears into a ministry
or career path, and the visible fruit looks nothing
like what you had envisioned. That is the exact
moment when we discover whether we are actually
trusting God or if we are just trusting our own
ability to manipulate the process. So in Cup
8, we were talking about staying fruitful when
nothing seems to be changing. In Cup 9, we were
talking about responding when God reveals, that
a hidden leak has gotten out of control. Now,
cup 10 is the crucial next step. What do you
do when you are doing everything right and you
still don't get to control how the story resolves?
The core idea is simple, but living it will cost
you something. Faithfulness is your assignment.
The outcome is God's sovereignty. I have seen
this dynamic play out vividly in my own life
through discipleship. Over the years, I've had
the opportunity to walk with some guys in all
kinds of discipleship relationships, some formal,
some casual, some long -term, and some for just
a brief season. I'm incredibly thankful for those
spaces. God used them to grow me, and he used
them to absolutely expose me. If I'm being completely
transparent, There were times when my genuine
desire for someone's spiritual well -being came
completely tangled up with my unhealthy need
to control how their story unfolded. My motives
weren't malicious. I wanted to follow Jesus.
I wanted them to walk in wisdom, love the word,
and avoid the exact sinful landmines that leave
deep, permanent scars. Those are good desires.
But good desires became incredibly toxic. when
you start carrying them like you're the one responsible
for the harvest. Looking back, I can see where
I added structure, then more structure, then
strict expectations around the structure, and
then intense pressure when the systems didn't
seem to be churning out the spiritual maturity
I wanted on my timeline. It's a painful thing
to admit because at the time, I thought I was
just being a passionate leader. But if I strip
away the holy vocabulary, Sometimes what I call
care was actually just control. Sometimes what
I called wisdom was just anxiety. Sometimes my
kingdom urgency was just impatience dressed up
in spiritual language. And when people didn't
respond the way I thought they should, I felt
it in my gut. I got tense, frustrated, and heavy.
because I was trying to carry the weight of an
ending God had never assigned to me. I've had
to do some serious repenting over the years,
not just for my outward words, but for how tightly
my fists were clenched. I was acting like faithfulness
meant I had to force the story to turn out right.
In some of those relationships, grace went out.
We had hard conversations, I apologized, and
things were beautifully repaired. In others,
the outcome was not what I wanted. And I had
to learn a lesson that sounds clean in a sermon
but feels brutal in real life. I can obey God
in offering a sincere apology without controlling
whether the person receives it. I can speak the
raw truth without controlling whether someone
believes it. I can love someone fiercely without
having the power to control whether they change.
Obedience without trust eventually degenerates
into control with a Bible verse taped to it.
And God was patient enough to teach me that the
hard way. Proverbs 16 .9 lays out the divine
boundary line perfectly. This verse is a crucial
reminder because it does not rebuke you for planning.
The original Hebrew word for plans actually implies
deep, intentionality, careful calculation, and
thorough preparation. It assumes you are using
your brain. It values wisdom, effort, and responsibility.
Planning your route is not a sin. It's normal
stewardship. The structural break happens in
the second half of the sentence. But the Lord
establishes his steps. The word establishes means
to make firm, to secure, to cause something to
stand solid. In short, we plan. but God directs.
We prepare, but God determines. Scripture isn't
trying to crush your work ethic. It's just clarifying
who holds the ultimate authority. And let's be
honest, most of us are totally fine with the
first half of that verse. We will happily plan,
work, teach, disciple, budget, and have the tough
conversations. But we secretly want the second
half too. We want to plan our way and establish
our steps. We want to do the obedience part,
and dictate exactly where the road leads. But
Proverbs won't let us carry that illusion. It
looks us in the eye and says, you are fully responsible
to walk wisely, but you are not sovereign over
the interstate of the heart. Luke chapter 22
takes this out of the realm of abstract philosophy
and drops it directly into the dirt. Jesus is
in the garden. He knows the exact nature of the
horror coming his way, the betrayal, the mockery,
the physical trauma, and the weight of the cross.
And he prays, Father, if you're willing, remove
this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will,
but yours be done. We need to be incredibly careful
not to flatten this moment. Jesus does not pretend
the cup is no big deal. He doesn't act like surrender
requires total emotional numbness or pretending
the outcome doesn't matter. He names his raw
human desire with total honesty. Father, if you
are willing, take this cup away. That really
matters to us. Biblical surrender is not stoic
apathy. It is bringing your bleeding heart and
your honest desires directly to the Father. But
then comes the pivot. That is open -handed obedience.
Jesus doesn't stop walking forward. He doesn't
check out or quit. He completely entrusts the
outcome to the Father. We often want surrender
to act like an anesthesia that numbs the pain
of uncertainty. But Jesus shows us that surrender
can be deeply costly and still Be perfectly faithful.
You can care to the point of tears and still
release control. You can walk forward in obedience
without demanding the ending you would have written.
If the sinless Son of God prayed with honest
desire and a surrendered will, we shouldn't be
shocked when our faith is tested at the exact
same intersection. Father, I want this specific
outcome with everything inside me. But I trust
you more than I trust my preferred ending. James
chapter 4 presses into this from an economic
angle. He talks about business owners who say,
today or tomorrow we will go to such and such
city, spend a year there, do business, and make
a massive profit. Now James isn't anti -work,
anti -business, or anti -strategy. The issue
wasn't their business plan. The issue was their
absolute presumption. They spoke as if tomorrow
was a commodity they currently owned. James drops
a line that will instantly humble you if you
let it sit on your chest. You do not know what
tomorrow will bring. We build our five -year
plans like life is a guaranteed contract. We
assume time. We assume health. We assume economic
stability. And we assume people will always react
exactly the way we predict. James reminds us
that our life is a dependent vapor. The truth
isn't supposed to paralyze you from buying a
house or launching a business. It's designed
to anchor you in humility. It teaches us to say,
if the Lord wills, we will live and do this or
that. Not as a cheap religious catchphrase we
slap on the end of every email, but as a deep,
internal posture that recognizes I will work,
I will plan, and I will obey. But I'm utterly
dependent on God for my next breath, my next
step, and my every single outcome. That is planning
without presumption. And it's incredible how
freeing, because if tomorrow belongs entirely
to God, you can finally stop pretending it belongs
to you. Here's where grace has to untangle our...
faulty thinking. Because the second we start
thinking about releasing outcomes, our internal
defense mechanism kicks in and whispers, oh,
so I'm just supposed to stop caring? No. That
is a cheap counterfeit of surrender. God is not
asking you to care less about your kids, your
marriage, your ministry, or your integrity. He
isn't asking you to care less. He's inviting
you to trust more. There is a world of difference
between those two postures. Letting go of the
outcome doesn't mean you stop praying fiercely
for your child. It means you pray without pretending
your prayers receive the leverage to control
them. It doesn't mean you stop discipling people.
It means you invest in them without trying to
play the role of the Holy Spirit in their transformation.
It doesn't mean you avoid hard conversations.
It means you speak the truth with deep humility
instead of hidden demand that they react exactly
how you want them to. Trying to manage outcomes
is absolutely exhausting. It keeps you trapped
in a loop of constant measurement and mental
replace. Did I say it perfectly? Did I pray long
enough? Did I make a wrong turn? Did I single
-handedly ruin the story? The Father is not standing
over you telling you to carry that weight harder.
He's looking at your bleeding, blistered hands
and saying, Trust me. with what you were never
engineered to carry. That doesn't mean every
chapter ends the way you had hoped. But true
biblical trust was never a promise that we would
always understand the script. It is an absolute
confidence that the author holding the pen is
completely good. So here's your practical move
for this week. Name one specific area where you
are currently obeying God. but still trying to
white -knuckle the outcome. I don't mean an area
where you're being lazy or avoiding responsibility.
I mean the place where you are already showing
up, doing the work, praying, and loving, but
your fists are tightly clenched. Once you have
that specific area in mind, run it through these
three diagnostic questions. What specific obedience
has God actually assigned to me here? What sovereign
outcome am I trying to illegally carry? What
does it look like to keep showing up, but with
totally open hands? Name the assignment, name
the outcome, and then pray this simple prayer
slowly. Lord, I will keep showing up. I'll be
faithful with what you've placed in my hands.
But I officially release the outcome to you.
That prayer is not a white flag of defeat. It's
raw, mature trust. And sometimes open -handed
trust is the most faithful thing you have ever
done. Now, here's the other part. You may not
just need to pray that once. In fact, you'll
probably need to pray it over and over again.
But before we close today's cup, let me pause
for just a second and remind you, if you've enjoyed
this episode or if you've enjoyed this season
or the podcast, please rate and review, follow
us, whatever it is, share it with a friend. That
helps us spread this to other people who need
to hear it. And if you want to support us, grab
a bag of coffee from Aaron Roots. It's a really
easy way to support us, and you get a great cup
of coffee. But thanks for listening to Grace
on the Grind, where we keep our coffee strong
and our faith stronger. Always remember, the
obedience was your assignment. The outcome was
never yours to carry. Even when you don't get
to write the final chapter, God is still completely
faithful. We'll see you in the next cup.