Jesus, Seriously? Wind?
Why Trust Means Letting Go of Control
Vacations
Some of you know that many of my vacations happen in warm, sunny places.
What you may not know is that many of them happen on a catamaran.
A few years ago, I was exploring a local Connecticut sailing club. During one of the tours, I overheard a bubbly voice mention that her roommate for an upcoming sailing vacation had just canceled.
I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. It was a small boat. There aren’t many secrets in a hull.
Later that day, I introduced myself.
We became fast friends.
We took that trip.
I joined the sailing program.
And I’ve been taking one or more catamaran vacations every year since then.
I didn’t wake up that morning planning to reshape my vacation life.
I was just paying attention.
John 3:1–17
If I’m honest, I prefer to know exactly where I’m headed.
I like a plan.
I like GPS for life.
Most of us do.
There is a Gospel story in John about a man named Nicodemus.
He was a respected religious leader. Educated. Thoughtful. Established.
One night, he came to Jesus with questions. He wanted clarity. Definitions. Something solid he could understand and organize.
And instead of giving him a tidy answer, Jesus talked about wind.
Really?
The man just wanted a simple answer.
Sheesh.
But no. Jesus goes full metaphor. (Get used to it.)
He said the wind blows where it chooses. You can hear it, but you can’t control it or predict exactly where it’s going next.
In John’s telling, “wind” carries deeper meaning — it points to the movement of God’s Spirit.
You cannot command the wind.
You cannot schedule it.
You cannot manufacture it.
You respond to it.
That’s why sailing is such a powerful image for faith.
A sailor cannot control the wind.
You can’t order it to blow harder.
You can’t demand it change direction.
But you can set the sail.
You can choose a heading.
You can adjust when the wind shifts.
The art of sailing is attentiveness.
If you try to sail against the wind, you exhaust yourself.
If you try to sail without wind, you go nowhere.But if you pay attention —
if you notice the shift —
you move.
A skilled sailor trades certainty for attentiveness.
Control
Most of us don’t struggle with direction.
We struggle with control.
We want guarantees.
Outcomes.
Proof that things will work out the way we hope.
But trust is about staying responsive to the Spirit.
What if something larger than you
is already moving in your life —
in a small conversation,
an unexpected invitation,
a quiet nudge you almost ignored?
Maybe faith is not about mastering the wind.
Maybe it’s about setting the sail.
Releasing what was never ours to control.
Receiving what we cannot manufacture.
Taking one faithful step.
Keep your eyes open for the next shift.
The Spirit is moving.
Reflection Questions
What “wind shift” have you noticed recently — a conversation, an invitation, a nudge — that you might be ignoring?
What would it look like for you this week to be more attentive than controlling?
If trust means staying responsive to the Spirit, what is one small adjustment you could make right now?
A Song to Carry With You
“Sailing” – Christopher Cross
Smooth, steady, and unhurried, this song captures what trust feels like when you stop fighting the current and let yourself be carried.