If God’s really in control, are we just extras in a cosmic movie, or do our choices actually matter? This isn’t just a theological riddle—it’s the kind of question that keeps you up at 2 a.m., somewhere between doomscrolling and existential dread. “Just trust God” doesn’t cut it when your life is on fire.
My grandparents are living proof that life is both a grind and a gamble. He dropped out of high school. She was Ivy League. They got married, started a business, watched it burn to the ground, and rebuilt from scratch. They fought through diabetes, heart attacks, and cancer. They hustled, they prayed, and—if you ask them—they also got lucky. Or, as they’d say, “God provided.” Sometimes it was sheer willpower. Sometimes it was a door opening at just the right moment. Sometimes it was both.
So which is it? Hustle until you collapse, or sit back and let God handle the details? If God’s calling the shots, do our choices even register?
This tension sits at the heart of being human. “Work as if it all depends on you, and pray as if it all depends on God.” But what does that actually look like when you’re staring down a career crossroads, a relationship mess, or a world that feels like it’s spinning off its axis?
Genesis 11: The Tower of Babel. Humanity gets ambitious, bands together, and starts building a tower to the sky. God’s response isn’t a standing ovation. He scrambles their languages and scatters them. Not exactly a motivational poster for teamwork. Unchecked ambition, even when it looks impressive, can get toxic fast. Babel wasn’t just a construction project—it was a monument to ego, built on the backs of the powerless. Ancient listeners heard “bricks” and thought “slaves.” Progress, but at what cost?
Modern life isn’t much different. Towers still go up—careers, brands, platforms—sometimes forgetting who gets crushed in the process. Ambition isn’t evil, but it’s not neutral, either. It can unite people and change the world, but it can also leave a trail of collateral damage. Babel is a warning: Ambition without purpose, without love, is just another way to lose yourself.
The other extreme isn’t any better. Jesus’ parable in Matthew 25 takes aim at the “wait and see” crowd. Three workers, three bags of cash. Two invest, one buries his in the dirt, paralyzed by fear. The boss comes back, and the risk-takers get praised. The guy who played it safe gets chewed out. Playing small isn’t faith. It’s fear dressed up as wisdom.
No neat formula exists—work hard, but not too hard; trust God, but don’t just sit there. Real life doesn’t hand out a flowchart for when to hustle and when to chill. The Bible offers stories—messy, complicated, sometimes infuriating stories—of people who risked, failed, succeeded, and sometimes just survived.
Choices matter precisely because God is in control. Not in spite of it. No one’s a pawn. No one’s a cosmic intern fetching coffee for the Almighty. Collaboration, not passivity, is the invitation. God’s sovereignty isn’t an excuse to sit on your hands; it’s a call to risk, to create, to love, to fail, to try again. Passive spectators and reckless empire-builders both miss the point. The world needs people who will actually do something with what they’ve been given—talent, time, money, energy, influence.
“God’s in control” isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card for bad decisions or apathy. It’s not a spiritual sedative. It’s a call to action. Waiting for a burning bush or a neon sign? That wait might last forever. Sometimes, God’s guidance looks a lot like making a decision, taking a risk, and trusting that He’s big enough to handle the fallout.
Frederick Buechner nailed it: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” No one stumbles into that by accident. Showing up, making choices, and trusting that God is already at work—sometimes in ways you’ll never see coming—gets you there.
Choices matter. God’s in control, but He’s not running a puppet show. Building Babel or burying your gifts both miss the mark. Risk, act, love, create. The world doesn’t need more passive Christians. It needs people who are awake, alive, and willing to do something that actually matters.
Waiting for absolute certainty before moving means waiting forever. Faith isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about moving forward, even when you don’t. Trust that God is with you in the risk, in the mess, in the ordinary Tuesday decisions that don’t feel spiritual at all.
Make a choice. Take a risk. Build something that matters. God isn’t just watching—He’s in it with you, inviting you to step out, screw up, learn, and try again. Choices matter, not because you’re in control, but because you’re not—and that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
