I understand the appeal of what you’re describing. The relief people feel when they no longer believe that everything depends on them can be profound. When that pressure lifts, attention often shifts outward. The mind stops circling so tightly around its own story. There is usually more space for patience, generosity, and simple attention to other people.
But I think the interpretation you’re placing on that experience goes a step further than the experience itself requires.
The deeper issue here is the sense of self. Most of us move through life with the feeling that there is a real subject at the center of experience. It seems as though there is a thinker somewhere behind the eyes producing thoughts, making decisions, and carrying responsibility for everything that happens.
Yet if you look carefully at your own mind, that picture becomes harder to maintain.
Thoughts appear on their own. You do not know what the next one will be until it arrives. The same is true for emotions, impulses, and even intentions. If you pause and try to observe the exact moment a thought is created, you will notice that it simply shows up. The sense that “I am thinking this” usually arrives just after the thought itself.
So the self we feel ourselves to be is not nearly as solid as it seems. It behaves less like an inner controller and more like a narrative that keeps getting updated after events occur.
When someone says they have surrendered to God, something psychologically significant often happens. They stop insisting that the small character in their mental story is responsible for holding the world together. That shift relaxes a lot of internal tension. The mind no longer feels compelled to defend and promote the self at every moment.
And when that contraction loosens, a few predictable things tend to follow. Anxiety eases. Defensiveness drops. It becomes easier to care about what happens to other people because attention is no longer monopolized by the maintenance of a fragile self image.
But notice what actually produced the change. The benefit came from loosening identification with the story of the self.
You do not need to believe that the universe is guided by a supernatural intelligence for that shift to occur. Traditions that spent centuries examining the mind reached similar conclusions without invoking a creator at all. They noticed that what we call the self is largely constructed out of thoughts, memories, and sensations appearing in consciousness.
Seeing that clearly can alter the way experience unfolds. The constant effort to defend “me” begins to look unnecessary. Concern for other minds arises more naturally once attention is no longer locked inside that narrative.
So the freedom you’re describing is real. But interpreting it as evidence that a divine mind has taken control of events is an additional step the experience itself doesn’t justify. What the experience actually reveals is how much strain comes from believing that there is a solid self at the center of everything.
If someone wants to explore that question directly rather than adopting a belief about it, there is a simple experiment available. Spend enough time observing the mind without distraction. The ten-day silent retreats taught in the tradition of S. N. Goenka introduce the practice of Vipassana meditation in a structured way. Ten days of carefully watching thoughts, sensations, and reactions can reveal quite a lot about how the sense of “I” is constructed moment to moment.
Information about those courses is available here:
https://www.dhamma.org/en/about/vipassana