Stewardship Saved My Life

What I Learned When I Let Go of Control

Joel Hime

If you’re feeling like everything depends on you—your job, your health, your family—and the pressure is quietly crushing you, I’ve been there.

There’s something no one ever told me about following Jesus—sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do is let go. And I had to learn that the hard way—first through a health diagnosis I never imagined, then through a job shift I didn’t want. But along the way, God introduced me to something I now hold onto with everything I’ve got:

The peace of stewardship.

Everything Changed in an Afternoon

When I was 27, we had just moved to Tucson. One Saturday afternoon, we went on a hike. I wasn’t feeling great, so I said to my wife, “I’m going to take a nap.”

When I woke up, everything had changed. My vision was out of control—awful double vision, splitting headaches. I felt horrible. That nap started a long journey of testing, waiting, and wondering. And after months and months of doctor’s appointments, I received the diagnosis: multiple sclerosis.

Then—just a couple days later—we found out we were pregnant with our first child. WHAM! Two life-altering moments, back to back. I was stunned. And in that fog of fear and uncertainty, God planted a thought in my heart that has stayed with me ever since:

“Joel, you’ve got to hold stuff loosely.”

I didn’t fully understand it at the time. But I started to realize something I had never considered before: even the body I occupy isn’t mine, I’m just stewarding it for God’s glory.

I Thought I Was in Control

I used to think 70 years old sounded ancient. I assumed I’d live forever, stay healthy, and keep my plans on track. Everything I had—my body, my career, my relationships—I thought I had earned. But through my diagnosis, God was showing me: “You don’t own this. You’re just stewarding it.”

I really like the story of Abraham. He made a lot of mistakes—which makes me feel a little better about myself—but God still gave him an incredible promise. In Genesis 12, God tells Abraham to leave everything familiar and go to a land He would show him. God says, “I will make you into a great nation… I will bless you… and all the families on the earth will be blessed through you.”

That’s a powerful promise. But Abraham still had a responsibility: he had to go. He had to steward what God gave him. Abraham didn’t own the covenant—God did. But he was still called to manage it faithfully.

That story hit me in a new way during my diagnosis. I realized I wasn’t the owner of anything—not even my own body. Like Abraham, I was being invited to trust and to steward, even when the path ahead felt unclear.

And strangely, that truth didn’t make me feel powerless. Instead, it started to free me.

I once heard this story about a film crew that destroyed someone’s front lawn during a shoot. Turns out—they’d gotten permission from the tenants, not the owner. The neighbors called the real owner in New York, who was not thrilled.

Why? Because renters don’t have rights—they have responsibilities. They were just stewards. And so are we.

So, I was holding tightly to the wrong things. That same lesson came around again years later—this time through my job.

In 2005, I was hired by Family Life Communications as an on-air announcer. I thought, “This is it. This is what I was made to do.” But in radio, there’s a saying: there’s “air talent,” and there’s “air no-talent.” Let’s just say, I was in the latter category.

One day, Adam—my boss—pulled me into his office for what turned into a three-hour conversation. There were stories, metaphors, even some Simon Cowell-level honesty. And somewhere in the middle of all that, he let me know I was coming off the air.

• I didn’t take it well.
• I was holding tightly to what I thought defined me.
• I thought, “This is who I am.”

But God—through Adam—was prying that role out of my hands. And looking back now, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Because again, God reminded me: “You’re not the owner, Joel. You’re the steward.”

Moving to Stewardship

Since then, stewardship has become a guiding principle in my life. It’s changed how I view everything—my job, my health, even my old car. (And trust me, if you’ve seen my car, you know what I mean.)

Someday soon, it’s going to break down. And when it does, I want to be able to say—without stress: “God, Your car has a problem. What are You going to do about it?”

I’m not quite there yet. But I’m learning. As a steward of all God’s given me, it’s not that I care less, but that I carry less.

Stewardship is managing what God gives you, without the weight of pretending you own it.

I’m learning that stewardship applies to relationships, too. When our son got his learner’s permit, I remembered holding him as a newborn thinking, I’m going to hold onto this little guy forever. Now I’m praying through every lane change.

Each season, God keeps nudging me: “You’ve got to launch him.” It’s scary, but it’s part of stewardship—releasing what we love, little by little, into God’s hands.

Corrie ten Boom once said, “I have held many things in my hands and I have lost them all. But whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess.”

That truth has been an anchor for me. The more I release, the more I discover what truly lasts.

Freedom in Letting Go

Jesus said in Matthew 16:25, “Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for Me will find it” (NIV).

That’s stewardship. As you choose to steward all God’s given you, you can:

• Release your grip on things you were never meant to hold so tightly.
• Trust the One who actually owns it all.
• Find peace.

In your decision to surrender, you don’t lose peace—you find it.

So, what are you holding too tightly?

One morning during staff chapel, Adam said something that stopped me. He invited us to open our hands in surrender and spoke to anyone silently asking, “Why me, Lord? Why this trial?”

His question stayed with me. If you’re in a season where life feels upside down—your health, your job, your finances, your future—I get it. I’ve lived it.

But I’ve learned we don’t walk through those moments alone. And we don’t carry them as owners. We carry them as stewards—entrusting everything back to the God who gave it.

So today, maybe you need to open your hands. Literally. Right now. And say, “God, this is Yours: my job, my body, my future…I’m just stewarding it.

That’s where peace lives. And that’s where I want to live, too.

Joel Hime has spent his career helping others live with intentionality and trust in what truly belongs to God. He earned his B.A. in Broadcasting from Cedarville University and soon joined Intentional Life Media (formerly Family Life Radio) where he served for nearly two decades—most recently as Director of Operations, helping steward ministry resources, programming, and people with wisdom and grace. His ministry journey took an unexpected turn when he transitioned into pastoral leadership—joining Alive Church in Tucson as a teaching pastor in early 2025. Joel’s story—marked by personal health challenges, vocational redirection, and the freeing discovery of stewardship—continues to inspire others to live with open hands. He and his wife, Callie, live in Tucson, Arizona with their three children, Jabin, Jackson, and Maddie.

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