His Way is Better

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how often God invites us to trust Him with things we’d much rather hold onto. Sometimes it’s easy—handing Him the small, everyday worries. But other times, it feels nearly impossible to let go. This story is one of those times when I had to unclench my grip and remember that His way truly is better.

Control. It’s something I wrestle with more often than I’d like to admit. Just when I think I’ve learned to let go, it sneaks back in, showing up in unexpected ways.

For the longest time, I didn’t even realize control was something I struggled with. I’ve always considered myself easygoing. I like to go with the flow. I respect people’s autonomy and I’m not one to force my way on anyone. So it surprised me when I realized I’d been fighting God for control.

My first real awakening to this came when we began fostering our little girls. After nearly two years of no contact, their biological father suddenly resurfaced. Out of respect for his privacy, I won’t share too many details, but I can say this—it was painfully clear that he wasn’t ready to parent a toddler.

If you’ve ever walked the road of foster care, you know it’s not as simple as “what’s best for the child.” In many states (and certainly in New Jersey, where we were), the system prioritizes reunification with biological parents, sometimes even when it’s hard to see how that could possibly be in the child’s best interest. The state has certain goals and numbers to meet, and reunification is a big one. And honestly, I agree—that should be the goal. When a family can be restored, that’s a beautiful thing.

But there are also those heartbreaking cases where it’s clear that restoration isn’t what’s best. Ours was one of them.

So when the judge approved reunification visits, my control issues came rushing to the surface. I didn’t want her taken from our home by a mostly unfamiliar caseworker, driven to Newark in an unfit vehicle, and escorted up four floors in an elevator to meet a man in a prison uniform she didn’t remember. It felt traumatic. It was traumatic. And I couldn’t understand how any of this could possibly be okay.

I pleaded with God—on my knees, in tears—begging Him to fix it. To intervene. I didn’t trust that He knew what He was doing. Deep down, I believed my plan was better. I thought I knew what her future should look like, and I feared that God was somehow asleep at the wheel.

That’s when I realized what my control really boiled down to: I thought I knew better than God.

Eventually—after exhausting every ounce of worry and resistance—I surrendered. I had no choice but to place her in His hands and trust that He loved her even more than I did.

And do you know what happened next? The pandemic hit.

Just before her first in-person visit, everything switched to virtual. Suddenly, what I had feared became something unexpectedly sweet. Every week for three months, we Zoomed with her biological dad. Those visits were tender and surprisingly beautiful. He was gentle and funny, engaged and present. She would show him her toys, and he’d laugh and play along.

My husband and I grew to genuinely love him. We even kept a journal of everything we learned about him—his stories, his favorite foods, little details—so our daughter would have them one day.

Eventually, he made the selfless decision to surrender his rights to us. After his release, he disappeared, and though we would have loved to keep in touch, we still pray for him. Looking back now, I can see God’s hand all over that season. His way—though I couldn’t see it at the time—was better.

You’d think that lesson would have stuck for good. And in many ways, it has. We recently moved our entire family ten hours away purely out of obedience and trust that God was leading us. But I still find myself gripping for control in new ways.

One of those ways? This blog.

I feel God nudging me to keep writing, to keep showing up and pouring into this space. But it doesn’t make money right now. And the practical side of me keeps saying, “Lord, I need to make an income. Can you please show me how to make this work faster?”

But I sense Him gently saying, “Trust Me.”

Maybe this blog will never be something that brings financial blessing—and that’s okay. Maybe it’s meant to bless just one person who stumbles across these words. Maybe it’s you, reading this right now.

If that’s the case, then this is for you.

God sees you. He loves you. He hasn’t forgotten you. And even when His plan feels confusing or slow or upside down, His way is better.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
Seek His will in all you do,
and He will show you which path to take.”
— Proverbs 3:5–6 (NLT)

Reflection:
Is there an area of your life where you’re trying to hold on to control?
What would it look like to loosen your grip and trust that God’s way—though it may look different from yours—is ultimately better?