Don't Let Anxiety Have the Last WordSample

Have you ever let something go and then immediately tried to take it back?

We went bowling with a group of friends and kids last month. One lane had bumpers, and one did not.

I proudly chose the lane without bumpers. But here is what made me laugh: no matter which lane we were in, once we released the ball, we all stood at the front of the lane twisting, leaning, and contorting our bodies as if we could still change its direction.

Of course, nothing moved the ball. It had already left our hands.

Life is often like that. We send the email, make the decision, give the talk, have the conversation, and then stand there mentally at the end of the lane trying to will the outcome back under our control.

Replay.
Regret.
Ruminate.

We have all been there.

Dallas Willard once described the same thing and then offered this invitation: Abandon the outcomes to God.

I love that sentence. And it challenges me in every cell of my being.

Letting go of control does not mean we stop caring. It means we stop carrying what was never ours to hold in the first place.

Scripture gives us the most beautiful invitation for letting go in 1 Peter 5:7 (NLT): “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.”

That little word give is stronger than it sounds. In the original language, it means to throw or place something away from yourself onto another.

Not to pretend it is not heavy.
Not to manage it better.
But to move the weight off your own body.

It is like finally setting down a bag that has been digging into your shoulder.

Or handing a heavy box into stronger hands and feeling your arms relax for the first time.

The weight does not disappear. It is just no longer yours to carry.

That is what casting our cares really is.

Not ceasing to care, but refusing to carry. Not abandoning responsibility, but abandoning the illusion that we have to hold everything alone.

Like that moment when the bowling ball finally leaves our hands, and we stop twisting our bodies to control what we can no longer touch.

And oh, the deep breath that comes when we do.

Even neuroscience quietly confirms what Scripture has already revealed.

When a burden is genuinely transferred to someone trustworthy, the nervous system shifts out of threat and into peace.

We breathe again.
Shoulders relax.
The heart rests.
Joy becomes possible in the present moment, even while the outcome is still unseen.

God does not ask us to stop caring. He invites us to stop carrying alone. To place the weight on him and trust that he knows what to do with it, and with us.

In a way, life sometimes feels like one long bowling game. As soon as the pins fall, they are set up again. But once the ball leaves our hands, once the email is sent, the words spoken, the decision made, the outcome is now in God’s hands.

And he is so very good at carrying what we cannot. He carries our cares. And in doing so, he carries us too. Always.

Prayer
Father, you see the things I am trying to hold after they have already left my hands. Help me place them in your care. You are not overwhelmed by what overwhelms me. I trust you, and I rest in you. Amen.

Moving From Tension to Trust
If you want a simple way to keep releasing what weighs you down, you can download the complimentary guide From Tension to Trust. It offers gentle steps to notice tension, release control, and return to peace in God’s presence throughout your day.

Coming Tomorrow
Giving our worries to God is never a one-and-done. Tomorrow, we will explore what to do when the ball rolls right back into our hands.