Editor’s Note: Post originally published on August 21, 2018.
According to 18th-century British poet Alexander Pope, “Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.” As a perfectionist who thrives on routine, my immediate reaction is to bristle at those words. I prefer order, structure, and clear expectations, and I don’t always respond gracefully when my plans unravel.
Yet, I’ve found myself challenged more and more to stretch beyond my preferences, especially when the unexpected barges in. I’m learning that growth often comes precisely when we release our white-knuckle grip on control.
Humanity as a whole tends to lean toward predictability. We crave the comfort of habit and routine. So when life throws a curveball, our instinct is to protest. We ask why. We question the timing. We may even resent the disruption.
A recent example: the changes to the Catechism of the Catholic Church regarding the death penalty. I won’t get into that debate here (maybe in a future post), but the intensity of the reaction—especially online—shows how unsettled we become when the Church, or life itself, seems to deviate from the script we’ve written in our heads.
Our Desire for Control vs. God’s Plan for Freedom
C.S. Lewis offers a piercing insight into our attempts to “manage” the messiness of life. In A Grief Observed, he wrote:
“We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accept it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.”
That last line is especially humbling. It’s easy to accept the theology of suffering in the abstract, much harder when it knocks on your door personally. We want life on our terms—timed, tidy, and manageable. But even the names of things, like “Planned Parenthood,” hint at our desperate desire to domesticate what was never meant to be controlled.
Of course, God could have made us automata. But He didn’t. He gave us something far riskier: freedom. And with freedom comes the possibility of evil, but also the possibility of love.
Lewis captures this tension perfectly in The Case for Christianity:
“Why, then, did God give [us] free will? Because free will, though it makes evil possible, is also the only thing that makes possible any love or goodness or joy worth having… A world of automata, of creatures that worked like machines, would hardly be worth creating.”
Love Is Worth the Unexpected
After a long week of wrangling my three kids—taking them to the park, refereeing their arguments, picking up toys for the 100th time, and navigating bedtime for the 1,000th—it’s easy to feel drained. Exhausted, I find it hard to be fully present to my wife.
That’s when I notice the tension: am I seeking to control the bedtime routine, or am I trying to love my family well?
When I get too fixated on control, when I parent from anxiety instead of love, I actually lose control. Love involves letting others act freely within good boundaries. God, as the perfect Father, models this. He allows us the freedom to accept or reject His love. And yet, He never stops inviting.
When I allow room for the unexpected—bedtime detours, messy prayers, spontaneous laughter—I often find that love shows up in surprising ways. And that’s the real goal: to choose love over rigid control, every day.
The Creativity of the Creator
Love not only invites freedom; it also sparks creativity. And creativity suffers when we try to control everything.
When I think of the most creative people I know—whether Einstein, Tolkien, Edison, or my own children—there’s always a spark of freedom, wonder, and play. Creation isn’t born from fear or calculation. It’s born from love, vision, and a willingness to embrace risk.
Genesis 1 reminds us that God is not an indifferent architect. He is an attentive, joyful Creator, delighting in both the vastness of the stars and the details of sparrows. That divine creativity continues through us, His creatures. I see it daily in the Lego towers my kids build, the “dance parties” they host with stuffed animals, the wild adventures they imagine.
Of course, some boundaries are needed. Rules and routines help children (and adults) flourish. But when control reigns supreme, we risk choking the life out of joy.
Control Is Not the Goal
J.R.R. Tolkien put it bluntly:
“The most improper job of any man, even saints… is bossing [controlling] other men. Not one in a million is fit for it, and least of all those who seek the opportunity.”
That includes bossing around our own lives.
I’m not saying we should throw structure out the window. Discipline matters. Planning has its place. But if we cling to control as the ultimate good, we start to treat people—including ourselves—like problems to solve instead of persons to love.
The Church teaches that the purpose of life is to know, love, and serve God. We do this best when we allow His grace to surprise us. When we stop demanding control and start delighting in the unexpected, we find glimpses of heaven in the ordinary.
Maybe Pope was right after all: “Blessed is he who expects nothing…” Not because we aim low, but because we open ourselves to whatever God has planned.
And in His hands, even the unexpected is worth it.
