allison elaine writes

Control issues were once a driving force in my life—and still, at times, they can creep back in if I’m not attentive to what’s happening within me. Let me explain.

Not always in ways that were obvious to others, but in ways that were deeply exhausting to me. I found myself increasingly annoyed by the world around me—why someone would do something a certain way, how they would do it, or why everyday situations felt unnecessarily frustrating. I nitpicked, analyzed, and internally bristled at things that shouldn’t have carried so much weight.

What frustrated me most was that I knew better—and yet I kept finding myself in the same patterns.

Over time, the Lord began to give me perspective. Eventually, He gave me revelation that aligned beautifully with what science now confirms.

I began to notice something important: I had lived through similar circumstances at different points in my life, yet I responded to them very differently. The common denominator was never the situation—it was me.

When I was spending intentional time with the Lord—being filled with Scripture, anchored in truth, and emotionally regulated—situations would roll off my back. I could move through my day with steadiness and remain rooted in the joy of the Lord. But during seasons when I was less intentional about reading and living out the Word, a clear pattern emerged: internal chaos, internal dysregulation, and then external frustration spilling into the world around me.

Unfortunately, that spillover most often affected the people I loved the most.

What neuroscience calls emotional and nervous system regulation, Scripture has always described as guarding the heart. Science shows that when we are internally regulated, our reactivity decreases—not because we are trying harder, but because our nervous system is no longer operating from threat. Scripture says the same thing in a different language: everything we do flows from the heart.

That realization brought another layer of conviction.

The Bible calls our enemy the accuser. And as I reflected honestly, I recognized how my struggle with control had quietly turned me into one as well—picking apart motives, actions, and outcomes. God builds us up. He reminds us of our identity in Him. He speaks truth, life, and restoration. Yet in my dysregulated moments, I was participating—often unintentionally—in the very work Scripture warns us about.

That realization didn’t bring shame.
It brought clarity.

Because God does not expose to condemn—He reveals to heal.

A Gentle Invitation

So here’s the question I now ask myself—and one I’ll gently offer to you as well:

What is happening inside of me that my behavior is trying to manage?

Instead of immediately correcting behavior—mine or someone else’s—I’ve learned to pause and tend to the heart. To ask whether exhaustion, fear, overwhelm, or disconnection might be beneath the reaction. To return to the Word not as a task, but as nourishment. To allow the Lord to regulate what I cannot willpower into place.

Formation doesn’t begin with control.
It begins with honesty, surrender, and being filled with truth.

A Prayer

Lord, teach me to tend to my heart before I try to manage my behavior.
Help me recognize when control is rising from unrest rather than trust.
Fill me with Your truth, anchor me in Your Word, and regulate what feels chaotic within me.
May my responses reflect Your peace, my words reflect Your grace,
and my life reflect the identity You have given me.

Amen.

Formation begins where accusation ends.
And regulation—both spiritual and emotional—begins when we allow ourselves to be filled by truth rather than driven by unrest.