When Letting Go Leads to Breakthrough: My Journey from Striving to Surrender

"Cease striving and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."
— Psalm 46:10 (NASB) 

I broke down in the shower.

Not in an, “I’m just overwhelmed” kind of way—but in a full-on, soul-spilling moment of surrender. I was hustling as hard as I could, making no money, second-guessing every decision, and paralyzed by fear that I had made a massive mistake changing careers. I had no backup plan, and no emotional energy left to keep pretending I could handle it all.

That night, I finally admitted it:
“God, I can’t do this without You.” 

And for the first time in my life, I actually meant it.

I poured out my heart to Him—every detail, every fear, every need. It might have felt trivial to some, but I had reached the end of myself. And in that place, I gave up control. I let go. I handed it all—my work, my future, my finances, my identity—over to the only One who could carry it.

That moment of breaking was the beginning of everything changing.

The Wilderness Wasn’t a Punishment

As the days passed, I began to realize that God had led me into this wilderness—not to punish me, but to teach me how to trust Him. He wanted my dependence. He knew that in order for me to fully follow His will, mine had to be broken.

And He was right.

For so long, I’d been living under the false belief that everything depended on me. That I had to make it happen. That strength meant independence, and hustle was the path to fulfillment. But that belief was quietly destroying me. What I thought was a strength—my drive and autonomy—was really fear in disguise. A lack of peace. A lack of faith. A lack of fruit.

When Strength Becomes a Burden

I’ve always been driven—fiercely so. Raised by wonderful parents who taught me the value of hard work, I was independent and self-sufficient from a young age. And while those qualities have served me well, they also fed a need for control.

As I moved into adulthood, my healthy independence slowly morphed into unhealthy autonomy. I didn’t just want to be responsible—I wanted full control over my life. My choices. My outcomes. My future.

Autonomy isn't a bad thing in and of itself. It's a gift, especially when we think of people around the world who don’t have the freedom we do. But when autonomy becomes our guiding compass—even over God—it turns into a spiritual liability.

As Sharon Hodde Miller writes in The Cost of Control,

"When autonomy becomes our guiding moral compass... it short-circuits community and stunts our spiritual growth."

In other words, we’ve confused self-reliance with freedom.
And instead of setting us free, it enslaves us to the limits of our own abilities.

When Fruit Is Missing

The truth is, I had worked myself into exhaustion trying to maintain control. But no matter how hard I pushed, I still felt anxious, stressed, and unsettled. The harder I tried, the emptier I felt.

And that’s when I realized I wasn’t bearing spiritual fruit.

Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23:
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 

These fruits grow when we’re connected to Jesus—the vine.

In John 15, Jesus says:

“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.”
(John 15:4 NIV) 

I wasn’t remaining. I was striving.
I was disconnected and drained—trying to live a spiritual life without staying spiritually fed.

“Cease Striving”: A Loving Rebuke

We often quote Psalm 46:10 as a comforting invitation to rest:
“Be still and know that I am God.” 

But in its original language and context, “be still” is more of a command than a cozy suggestion. It’s translated from the Hebrew word râphâh, which means to “let go,” to “release,” or to “stop fighting.”

God was addressing people who were striving in their own strength, taking matters into their own hands, and making things worse in the process. Sound familiar?

I’ve been there.

Maybe you have too—rushing ahead of God, forcing outcomes, frantically trying to fix what only He can restore.

But what if the breakthrough you’re praying for isn’t on the other side of more effort—but less control?

A New Way to Live

That moment in the shower wasn’t just an emotional release—it was a spiritual realignment. A turning point.

From that day on, I started letting God lead—not just in crisis, but in everything.

And while I still fall back into old habits at times (hello, Type A), I now know the warning signs:

•  When peace is gone, I’m striving again.
•  When joy is missing, I’m searching in the wrong places.
•  When patience runs out, I’m likely running ahead of God.

If that’s where you are today, let me gently ask: 

Are you connected to the vine? 

Are you leaning into God’s voice—or your own strength?

Are you laboring—or resting in His promises?

Letting Go Changes Everything

“Cease striving and know that I am God.”

This verse isn’t just about stillness—it’s about surrender. It’s about trusting that God really is in control, that He sees you, and that He knows exactly what you need.

And when you let go—when you finally release your grip—you’ll begin to experience peace, clarity, and direction like never before.

Because God’s power begins where your striving ends.

Your next step might not be another hustle. It might just be a holy pause. A whispered prayer. A moment of stillness.

Let go—and let God do what only He can do.