10. 🛐 Jesus, Take the Trauma

Because the wheel is too small—
and I’ve got more baggage than legroom.

This isn’t your classic Christian radio surrender.
There’s no soft fade-out. No choir swell. No warm fuzzies.
Just me.
Overpacked with pain,
stuck in emotional turbulence,
trying to pray without losing my sh*t in public.

They say “Give it to God.”
But nobody tells you what to do when you don’t trust anyone to hold your pain—especially not someone invisible.

🧳 When Faith Meets Flight Risk

I’ve heard it a thousand times:
“Just give it to Jesus.”
As if trauma is carry-on luggage
and God is a heavenly bellhop
waiting to take my burdens
while I relax into peace that never shows up on time.

But trauma doesn’t check itself at the altar.
It shows up in my body. In my breathing.
In the way I flinch at kindness and rehearse exits in therapy.

🧠 Psychology Meets Prayer

Surrender is a luxury when you’ve lived in survival mode.
When your nervous system doesn’t know what safety feels like,
letting go feels more like falling.
And trusting anyone—even God—
can feel like a setup for more abandonment.

“Jesus, take the wheel”?
I get it.
But maybe first,
let me unclench the steering wheel from my trauma-triggered grip.

🩸 The Truth Behind “Let Go and Let God”

Sometimes, faith becomes a shortcut
people use to skip past your pain.

• “Just pray about it.”
  
• “God’s in control.”
  
• “Don’t worry. He’s got you.”
  

Cool.
But where was He
when I was drowning in the wreckage
everyone else called “God’s plan”?

🙏 This One’s for the Spiritually Skeptical

I’m not faithless.
I’m faith-wounded.
And I need a God who doesn’t flinch when I say:
“You can have the trauma.
But I’m keeping the receipts.”

Because forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting.
Healing doesn’t mean pretending.
And surrender doesn’t mean silence.

💬 Final Reflection:

Maybe real faith isn’t in the handover.
Maybe it’s in staying behind the wheel long enough to know why you were gripping it so tight.
Maybe healing means co-piloting with the divine—
not ghosting your emotions for a spiritual shortcut.

🧨 Closing Hook:

He can take the wheel.
But I’m keeping the receipts.
Because survival taught me to document everything—
especially miracles that might not make the news.