October Theme – “Crucified with Christ: Dying to Self, Living to God”
SUNDAY’S SERMON SUMMARY
Control doesn’t storm the door of your heart; it slips in quietly, disguised as wisdom and dressed in responsibility. It sounds noble, even spiritual: “I’m just being careful.” But beneath its polished tone beats a heart fueled by fear, not faith. It whispers, “If you don’t hold this together, everything will fall apart.” Yet the irony is this—whatever we cling to hardest is usually what we end up losing, while whatever we place fully in God’s hands is kept by His power. Control pretends to promise peace, but it delivers pressure. It is panic wearing a halo. The tighter you grip, the quicker your soul runs out of breath. Peace doesn’t come by managing every outcome—it comes by bowing to the One who already knows it. Like the child who “helped” the butterfly by cutting open its cocoon, we often call our interference love, discernment, or stewardship. But Heaven calls it what it is: unbelief. We rescue too soon what God is still redeeming, interrupting the very struggle meant to make wings strong. Proverbs 3:5–6 is not just a verse to memorize; it’s a mirror that exposes the human heart. “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” Divine direction does not flow through clenched fists but through surrendered hands. The more you release, the more you rest. The more you surrender, the stronger you stand. Abraham tried to hurry God’s promise, Peter tried to steady the waves, and both discovered the same truth—faith begins where explanations end. You cannot live in peace and control at the same time. One must die for the other to live. The throne belongs to God alone, and every act of release is an act of worship. Surrender is not the end of strength—it’s the beginning of divine power. It’s what happens when you stop trying to understand what only Heaven can explain. That’s when something supernatural rises inside you—holy rest. When obedience leads you into uncertainty, when prayers seem unanswered, and when silence stretches longer than your strength, trust may feel like loss. But waiting is never wasted. Delay is not denial—it’s development. Joseph’s dungeon, Moses’ wilderness, and even the Cross itself all testify that Heaven’s greatest victories often wear the disguise of waiting. Worship, then, is not an escape from the storm—it’s the calm within it. It’s warfare without words. It’s surrender that speaks louder than fear. So take inventory: write down what you cannot fix. Name it. Lay it before the Lord. Then declare with confidence, “God is in charge—I am at rest.” Don’t just place the problem on the altar—place your need to understand it there, too. The instant you release it, Heaven begins to move. Because faith isn’t proven when you finally see the outcome—it’s proven when you trust without one. That’s where surrender becomes strength, and the Spirit fills the space fear once occupied. Let Christ take the wheel. Let peace take its rightful seat where panic once ruled. Let the Holy Spirit breathe again in the places where worry has suffocated life. When you stop trying to hold everything together, you’ll discover the truth that’s been holding you all along—God already is.
GO TO www.belmontbaptistchurch.com/sermons and listen to Sunday’s message.
Beats From Your Pastor’s Heart
The Freedom of Letting God Be God
“The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.” — Exodus 14:14 (KJV)
Peace begins the very moment you stop trying to do God’s job. We often say we trust Him, yet our hearts stay clenched around the very things we claim to surrender. Control exhausts the soul—it drains joy, shortens patience, and turns rest into restlessness. Every time you try to manage outcomes that belong to the Almighty, your spirit grows weary under a weight you were never meant to carry.
Letting God be God isn’t weakness—it’s worship. It’s the recognition that His power reaches further, His timing runs deeper, and His ways are higher than our understanding. Freedom doesn’t come from gripping tighter; it comes from bowing lower. The very peace you’re chasing can only be found on your knees.
When you release the reins, heaven takes the wheel. The Red Sea didn’t part because Moses had a plan; it parted because Moses obeyed the command to stand still. The Israelites could have panicked or fought—but God’s message was clear: “The LORD shall fight for you.” Some of your greatest breakthroughs will not come through effort but through stillness—when you finally stop striving and start trusting.
Jehoshaphat understood this truth. Surrounded by enemies, he didn’t gather generals or sharpen swords—he gathered singers. When Judah began to praise, God began to move. The battlefield turned into a blessing field, and the sound of worship confused the enemy’s camp. Surrender doesn’t silence the struggle—it invites the Lord to step in and do what only He can do.
If you want heaven’s peace, you must stop trying to sit in heaven’s chair. When you insist on controlling the outcome, you’re robbing yourself of the miracle that comes through surrender. There is a freedom that comes only when you finally let go and whisper, “God, this belongs to You.”
Jehoshaphat’s victory was not won by human strategy but divine surrender. When the people of Judah began to sing praises, God Himself ambushed their enemies (2 Chronicles 20:22). Their song became their weapon, and their worship became their warfare. The outcome made it clear—the victory belonged to God alone.
Prayer: Lord, I release the reins today. I lay down the burdens that were never mine to carry. Teach me to trust You when I can’t trace You. Fight for me where I can’t fight for myself. Help me to rest in Your sovereignty, to worship in my waiting, and to find freedom in surrender. I choose peace over panic, worship over worry, and faith over fear. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Challenge: Write the words “I’m not God” somewhere visible today—on a mirror, a note, or your phone screen. Each time anxiety tries to take over, touch it and say aloud:
“God is in charge—I am at rest.”Let that reminder become your anthem of surrender and your declaration of trust.
FRIDAY’S PRAYER REQUESTS
Betty Hammock
Kay Woodson
Cheryl Knight’s Brother
Jean Partee’s Sister
Kathryn Rains
Deon Lotter
Doris Loyd
Mike Bryan
Mike Hollinhead
Nancy Brown – Rehab
The Barksdale Family – Bobbi Jackson’s Brother In Law Passed Away
Allysa Elliott
Amy Garner’s Dad
Annette Ford
Andrea Nix– Friend of the Shelnutt’s
Angela Bryan’s Sister
Ann Stanley
Carol Lawhead – Park Place Rehab in Monroe
Danny Jarrard
Darlene Wiggins
Debbie Foskey
Doris Loyd
Dr. and Mrs. Davis
Eric Magnusson’s Mother
Eric Ward
Friend of Linda Hodge
Gayle Sparks
George & Linda Alexander
James Burnette
Jessica Headrick
John McClain’s Mother
June Cronan’s Sister
June Davis
Kailey Bateman
Kathryn Raines
Kim McClain’s Mother
Kim’s Sisters – Ann & Brenda
Lee Cronan
Lillianna Magnusson’s Mom
Linda Breedlove’s Sister – Sarah
Linda Mays
Lonzo Christian
Lori Blount’s Mother
Mary Williams
Mary Williamson – Dana Jackson’s Mom
Mrs. Franklin
Nora Allison
Ron And Johnnie Barry – Friends Of Ashton & Glenda Bateman
Rose Fuller – Pruitt-Monroe Nursing Home, Forsyth GA
Scott Lanier
Scotty Nix
Sheila Simmons
Stephanie Seivers – Friend of the Shellnutts
Steve Michaels
Tom Witcher