Principal's Thoughts
I wanted to share a staff member's devotion from this week.
Devotion - When I can’t take the wheel
Isaiah 40:28–31
“Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
There are two pictures that tell a story about my life.
The first is a picture of me sitting looking at a high-jump mat in Kladno, Czech Republic. It is one of the most beautiful stadiums I ever competed in—built in a forest—and at that stage of my life, I was doing something I absolutely loved.
I trained hard. I listened to my coach. I followed my nutrition plan. I prepared as well as I possibly could. But there was a point where preparation had to end and trust had to begin. I could do everything that was within my control, but I couldn't control selection, competitions, results, injuries or what opportunities would come next. So I learned to say, “I've done my part. Now, God, I trust You with the rest.” And interestingly, some of my closest times with God were during those long runs and training sessions. I would talk to Him about competitions, but also about life.
Before competing, I would hold onto Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Things didn't always go according to plan. There were seasons when I had trained incredibly hard, only to be injured before the competition or season I had been preparing for. And somehow, I could accept it. I could say, "God has this. I don't understand it, but I trust Him."
Then life changed.
Now my “training sessions” look very different.
Instead of preparing for an athletic competition, I'm trying to keep up with two beautiful, busy little boys. And I am incredibly blessed. But I've also realised something: trusting God feels harder when the things I love are no longer about me. When it was my sport, I could surrender my future to God.
But when it comes to my children, I suddenly want to take the wheel. I want to control their safety. Their health. Their future. The world they are growing up in. The things they will experience. The things I cannot possibly control.
And that has made me realise something uncomfortable: I haven't stopped trusting God. I've started believing that I need to help Him carry the burden.
Isaiah 40 speaks beautifully into this. Isaiah asks: “Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”
God doesn't become less sovereign when I become anxious. He doesn't become less capable because I am worried. And He doesn't love my children less than I do. In fact, He knows them more completely and loves them more perfectly than I ever could.
On Saturday, my son had an accident with the BBQ and ended up in the emergency department with burns on his arms. The doctor said he was very lucky. In that moment, there was no hesitation in me. I prayed. I trusted. I knew God was there. I thought God had His angels around him. But afterwards I found myself asking: Why did I need something frightening to happen before I remembered that God was already holding him?
Because God had been there before the accident. He was there during it. He was there in the emergency department. And He was there when we went home.
But He is also there on the ordinary days when nothing dramatic happens. He's there when my son wants to pray for his teachers. He's there when someone unexpectedly encourages me to trust Him. He's there when I am surrounded by people at work who are willing to pray with me and for me. He's there in conversations and circumstances that seem almost insignificant.
These are little reminders of a much bigger truth: God doesn't only reveal Himself in the crisis. He is present in the ordinary. Isaiah 40:31 doesn't say that those who trust God will never become tired. It says: “Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.”
That is different. God doesn't promise that I will never feel anxious. He doesn't promise that everything will go according to my plan. He promises Himself. And perhaps that's what I need to learn again.
As an athlete, I understood “do your part and let God handle what you can't control.” Now I need to learn that same lesson as a mum. I can love my children. I can pray for them. I can protect them where I can. I can teach them God's Word. I can make wise decisions. I can do my part. But I cannot control everything. And I was never meant to.
Isaiah 41:10 says: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.”
Notice what God doesn't say. He doesn't say, “Don't worry because nothing bad will ever happen.” He says: “Do not fear, for I am with you.” The answer to my anxiety isn't knowing exactly what tomorrow will bring. The answer is knowing Who will be there when tomorrow comes. So perhaps my prayer needs to become much simpler: “God, I've done what I can. Now I give You what I cannot control.” Just like I did before a competition. Except this time, I'm not handing Him a competition. I'm handing Him my children, my health, my future, my fears and my need for control. And reminding myself: The God who strengthened me to run is the same God who strengthens me to walk. Sometimes He gives us wings. Sometimes He gives us strength to run. And sometimes He simply gives us enough strength to take the next step.
What is something you are currently carrying that God is asking you to surrender? Not ignore. Not stop caring about. Not stop doing your part. But stop carrying alone.
Father,
Thank You that You are the everlasting God. Thank You that You don't grow tired, that You don't lose control and that nothing surprises You. Forgive me for the times I try to carry things that were never mine to carry.
Help me to trust You with the things I cannot control—especially the people and circumstances I love most. When I am anxious, remind me that You are with me. When I am afraid, remind me of Your promises. When I cannot see what You are doing, help me trust who You are. Help me to recognise Your presence not only in the moments of crisis, but also in the quiet, ordinary moments of every day. Teach me again to do my part faithfully—and then let go and let You be God. Thank you for having your loving arms around those that I love dearly. Give me strength for today, wisdom for what is in front of me, and faith to leave tomorrow in Your hands.
Amen.