Who's Driving—My Mind or My Soul?
Some days, I find myself tangled in the tension between mind and spirit, between faith and fear. I say I've surrendered to God's will, and I mean it—until things go sideways. When life is smooth, it’s easy to say I trust. But the moment worry knocks, I’m reminded how quickly my mind takes the wheel.
When something grabs my attention just right, my mind latches on like a dog with a bone. Even when there’s nothing left to chew, it stays engaged—locked in a loop of overthinking, refusing to let go.
I try to remind myself: these thoughts are not me. My mind is loud, but it's not the driver of who I am. Maybe it’s just my Uber—doing the driving, while I ride and observe. Even if the driver is reckless, I’m still safe where I sit. The soul, after all, is untouched by the chaos.
It’s like a child with an action figure—making up a story, creating danger, drama, and suspense. That’s the mind, putting me in places I never actually went, in fears I never truly faced. It makes me believe I’m in danger, when I’ve never even left the room.
Still, I’ll be honest: my mind outruns my faith more often than I’d like to admit. When it does, I feel defeated. I question my progress. I wonder if I’m just pretending—spouting spiritual truths I haven’t yet embodied. But then, in the quiet, I hear God say:
Relax, my dear boy. I know who you are. And I love you just the same.
I gave you a mind that thinks, even when it overthinks. That car alarm blaring in your head? It’s probably just the wind.
"We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."
— 2 Corinthians 10:5 (NIV)
So I pray:
Loving God, I need You. I can’t do this on my own.
My mind—my Uber driver—can be mean, reckless, even scary.
But help me remember: I am not where my thoughts take me. I am where You hold me.
Help me live here. Right now. In the eternal stillness of who You created me to be.
