The Illusion of Control: How a panic attack revealed an ugly truth
It was the fall of 2019, and life was - wait for it - busy. How often do we try to convince ourselves that if we can just make it through this next stretch, things will finally slow down. But this time was different.
Everything I had been building—ministry, projects, dreams—seemed to crescendo all at once, colliding with several moments of deep difficulty and brokenness. Ironically, I was speaking at a pastors’ sabbath retreat when the symptoms began: a tightness in my chest that wouldn’t go away, a heavy pressure sitting in my stomach, nights of insomnia, and frequent moments of rapid pulse.
After opening up to a few close friends and undergoing a series of medical tests, the diagnosis was clear - I was having panic attacks. It was my body's way of telling me what my mind was unable to process:You simply can't carry all of this!
Around that same time, I found myself rereading the story of Peter in Matthew 14, the one where he steps out of the boat and walks on water. We often turn Peter into a punchline for his lack of faith, but I saw something deeper this time. His initial step of faith is stunningly courageous. How many of us would see Jesus walking and water and immediately think to ourselves, "If Jesus can do that then I might as well give it a try?"
Peter asks Jesus to command him out onto the water and Peter begins walking on water. In the middle of this amazing, miraculous moment of faith, Peter looks over and catches a brief glimpse of the waves and the wind. Immediately, he begins to sink.
Given my own circumstances, the story struck me differently this time around.
From the outside, my life looked like a series of bold faith steps. I wasn’t playing it safe. During this time, our church planting network was about to launch five new churches. We were preparing to open a new campus in a widely neglected and overlooked part of our city. We were negotiating a new building that would strategically position us to reach more people in our city, including one of the most marginalized and oppressed neighborhoods in our city. I had just published my first book, a step of obedience that took years to complete.
I truly believed God was able to do the impossible. I trusted Him. But I kept doing what Peter did, taking a bold step of faith, only to immediately look over at the wind and waves.
After my panic attack, my therapist and I began peeling back the layers. What was underneath the fear? What was at the core of my panic and anxiety? One answer kept surfacing: control. I wasn’t necessarily afraid to take risks. I was afraid of what would happen once I did and things didn’t go as planned.
In the months leading up to the panic attack, everything I tried to control began to unravel. My mother-in-law, who had moved in with us due to illness, was quickly nearing the end of her life. The new church building we hoped for was getting tangled in complex legal complications. The sell of our house didn't go through - requiring more repairs, more money, and lengthy delays. One by one, the plates I thought I had kept spinning began to crash. And with them, the illusion that I was ever truly in control.
Here's the thing: I really did believe in God’s power, but I was living as if everything depended on me - my work ethic, my strategy, my ability to hold it all together. I was taking steps of faith, while anxiously monitoring the wind and waves. And a result, I was sinking.
In hindsight, I realized that a lack of faith doesn’t always look like refusing to get out of the boat. Sometimes it looks like walking on water while still trying to manage the storm. It's taking your eyes off Jesus and thinking that we can control outcomes and situations we were never meant to carry.
I can't tell you how often I have to remind myself of this truth: Matt, get your eyes off the wind - off the things you can't control - and fix your eyes on Jesus.
Here's a great question for reflection: Are there areas of your life you are trying to control or manage and the Holy Spirit is calling you to a place of complete trust and surrender?