Blog #41: Who's In Control?
- E. ZeNai Savage
- Aug 1
- 5 min read

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..."
Over the past few weeks, I've been settling into my new office. One of my favorite parts has been making it feel like my own space. Curating a minimalist, serene environment, designed for calm reflection and clear thinking, that centers who I want to be and how I want to feel. I even took a week off to rest, reflect, and honestly just let my nervous system reset after what has been a season of significant change.
During that week, when looking for a final piece to add to my wall, for a good background when on camera of course, I came across a simple piece of wall art with the Serenity Prayer on it. It's a prayer I've known for years, however, like many people, I've always focused on the middle line: the courage to change the things I can. That part always resonates with me. It's probably one of the reasons I've spent my career in nonprofit leadership, public service, ministry, and mission-driven organizations. I've always believed people can make a difference.
But this time, I found myself drawn to a different part of the prayer.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..."
It caused me to ask a simple question: Who's in control?
Or maybe a better question: What has God actually placed under my control?
One thing I've always tried to balance is hopeful optimism with skeptical realism. I know no organization is perfect. Whether serving on boards or executive teams, I've always believed we can individually make an impact. We can improve systems. We can challenge the status quo. We can build healthier cultures. We can leave things better than we found them.
If I'm honest, though, I've also had seasons where I overestimated my own ability to create that change. I thought if I worked hard enough, communicated clearly enough, built the right process, or stayed committed long enough, I could move people, fix organizations, or get everyone rowing in the same direction.
Sometimes that happened. But more often, it left me frustrated and disappointed. Disappointed when people I believed in made different choices, when organizations drifted from their mission, and when I realized I couldn't want growth, accountability, or excellence more than someone else did.
One irony I’ve noticed in recent years is that moving into executive leadership doesn't eliminate that reality. Yes, your influence grows. But so does your accountability. CEOs answer to boards. CFOs answer to CEOs and finance committees. Board members answer to one another. None of us operates independently. No matter how much authority we have, there are still things, people, systems, and circumstances we simply cannot control.
For me, one of the greatest sources of frustration in leadership isn't resistance.
It's trying to carry responsibility for someone else's decisions.
I can't make people share my values.
I can't force someone to pursue excellence.
I can't convince an organization to embrace equity and accountability.
I can't make someone choose integrity.
And perhaps the hardest lesson of all...
I don't have to.
Acceptance doesn't mean I stop caring. It doesn't mean I lower my expectations or stop speaking truth. It means I stop believing it's my job to change what only God can change. It means recognizing there are limits to what God has asked me to carry.
That realization reminded me of the book of Amos.
Amos was a shepherd whom God called to deliver a difficult message to Israel. The nation was prosperous on the outside, but spiritually they had drifted from God. They continued their religious practices while neglecting justice and ignoring the covenant they had made with Him. God wasn't sending Amos to fix Israel. He was sending him to faithfully deliver His message.
In Amos 3, God explains that the coming judgment wasn't random; it was the consequence of Israel choosing to walk a different path. As part of that message, Amos asks, "Can two people walk together without agreeing on the direction?" (Amos 3:3, NLT).
In context, Amos isn't talking about friendships or business partnerships. He's explaining why God and Israel are no longer walking together. They are no longer aligned because Israel has chosen another direction.
That principle still speaks today.
Sometimes our greatest frustration comes from trying to keep walking with people, teams, or organizations that have chosen a different direction. We spend so much energy trying to change other people that we neglect the one thing God has actually entrusted to us, our own obedience.
I've seen this in church.
I've seen it in business.
I've seen it in politics.
I've even seen it in myself.
There have been seasons where I felt disappointed because people expected me to fit a mold that didn't align with who God created me to be in church, in politics, and even in business. There have also been seasons where I expected others to become who I thought they should be. Neither is healthy.
The older I get, the more I realize that alignment matters more than agreement.
Not every disagreement is a problem to solve. Sometimes it's simply evidence that two people, or even an organization and a leader, are being called in different directions.
That doesn't always mean someone is wrong. But it does mean I have a choice. I can spend my energy trying to change people, or I can faithfully steward what God has entrusted to me and trust Him with the rest. Just like Amos. He wasn't measured by whether Israel responded; he was measured by whether he faithfully delivered the message God entrusted to him.
The Serenity Prayer reminds me that changing hearts has never been my responsibility.
That's God's.
My responsibility is to faithfully steward the influence He's given me, speak truth with grace, act with integrity, and trust Him with everything beyond that.
That's why the final line of the prayer may be the most important.
"…and wisdom to know the difference."
James writes:
"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you." (James 1:5, NIV)
Notice James doesn't tell us to figure it out on our own. He tells us to ask.
There will be moments when God calls us to courage. To speak up, lead change, and persevere. There will also be moments when He calls us to let go, release what we cannot control, and trust Him with the outcome. Knowing the difference isn't something we naturally possess. It's something God generously gives to those who seek Him.
As I begin this new season, that's become my prayer. Not simply for more courage. But for the serenity to release what belongs to God. The courage to faithfully steward what He's entrusted to me.
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Maybe that's why that simple piece of wall art caught my attention. I originally wanted it to fill a blank space in my office. Instead, it's become a daily reminder. Every morning, I'll have to ask myself the same question:
What's mine to faithfully steward today...and what belongs to God?
Stay faithful | Stay disciplined | Stay aligned
Live Blurred,
ZeNai

Reflection
What situation am I trying to control that ultimately belongs to God?
Am I spending more energy trying to change other people than allowing God to change me?
Where might God be inviting me to release frustration and embrace trust instead?
Have I asked God for wisdom before deciding whether to push forward or let go?
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