Losing Control
“I’m not very controlling,” I said in all sincerity one day not too long ago. My colleague of more than six years snorted so hard as she sipped her diet caffeine-free soda that the carbonated liquid almost shot out of her left nostril. She thought I was being sarcastic and then subsequently thought it was hysterical that I wasn’t. I was miffed. But she, as she often is, was right.
I was not yet ready to say: “Hello, my name is Shann and I am a controlaholic.” I have not even fully admitted to myself what others so clearly see in me. However, I was forced to this week when my prayers out-loud sounded something like this:
“God, why am I in such a bad mood today? Yes, it’s raining and yes, it’s a Monday which is enough to cause me to be gloomy but I am feeling so sad and irritable without a good reason to be. I miss Johnnathan while he’s in Haiti but I know he’s doing your work and I’m excited to hear how you’ll use him. Work is busy but things are going fine. The kids are healthy and doing well. I’m so grateful my mom could come up during this busy time when J is away. The only thing I have to complain about is that I’m not certain about what’s going to happen next in my life and I don’t know what to do about that.”
Bingo.
I don’t think it was God who responded like this but my inner get-your-crap-together-self said something back to me like:
“Ummm hello. ‘I am not certain about what will happen next in my life’ This is why you’re in a bad mood today? What kind of an insane statement is this? Who is certain about what will happen next in their life? To my knowledge no one has successfully mastered fortune-telling, at least not legitimate non-scam-artist humans. What you really mean is that you have no control over what happens, no next big plan to prepare or twist or tailor to your needs. You are sad-mad today because Johnnathan being away crystallizes the enormity of the weight of being a wife and mother who works full-time and is pressing toward another future unknown place. You are sad-mad because there is only so much you can plan, twist or tailor in order to build the path ahead of you. Plus, lately you don’t have enough brick or energy to lay even your very next step, let alone the one after that. The masonry work takes master craftsmanship, infinite time and unending wisdom. Why are you wasting a perfectly good day lamenting that you cannot achieve the supremely unachievable?”
I smirked at myself and then frowned back at the reflection in my rearview mirror. If anyone had been looking they would have thought I was a lunatic. Maybe I am anyhow.
When did I become so wound up, tight and bound like a braided hemp bracelet? Now not having a plan leaves my hands wringing and I feel the need to vacuum something.
My mom used to sing an old Doris Day song every once in a while: “Que sera sera, whatever will be will be. The future’s not our’s to see. Que sera sera.” Even as I child I thought this was flippant and irresponsible. But now I realize that my tight grip on plans and steps and actions has all been at the core - a lack of trust in the God who created me.
He says He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end (Rev. 22:13). He says He formed me in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13) and ordered all of my steps before I set out (119:133). He exists apart from time (2 Peter 3:8) and knows all the plans He has for me, plans to give me hope and a future (Jer. 29:11). He tells me not to worry because I cannot even add a single hour to my life by worrying (Matt. 6:27). He calls each star by name (Psalm 147:4) and numbers the sands on every seashore and the hairs on my head. He tells me He loves me, control-freak and all, just as I am (Rom. 5:8). All He’s ever asked is that I follow where He leads, the path that He says He has already laid before my feet. The One who is all Love has infinite wisdom and knows and wants the absolute best for me.
You would think that someone who has been as blessed as I have would simply remember Jesus’ promises enough that their truth would enable me to not throw a temper tantrum in traffic while I jabbered to myself in the rearview mirror, but apparently not.
In talking to my precious small group ladies about how we all have difficulty trusting God with places in our lives and remembering not to forget His promises, one of them said, “Apparently this is a hard thing to do.” We laughed in the simple truth of this statement. Apparently so.
This is probably why the Bible sets the stage for the first half talking about the children of Israel being hard-hearted and stiff-necked. Always hearing but never perceiving, always seeing but never understanding. This is me. I am them.
In order to find peace, I am going to have to let go and place my family, my plans, and my future squarely in the hands of the One who is holding it all anyway. Me thinking I really have ahold of even an iota of it is absurd.
If there is one thing I do know, it’s that the One who sees the end from the beginning, the One who made time and space is trustworthy to craft what happens next. He’s not only the expert mason, the craftsman who builds my path, He’s also the One who walks beside me and who is the very destination.