A Parent's Mirage of Control

Preoccupied with housework, I was oblivious to what was going on around me. As my husband would say, I usually don’t notice the pink elephant on the side of the road as we drive by. I remember one time my child thoroughly painted himself, the TV and nearly everything nearby with shortening while I was clueless, baking bread in the same room. Anyway, back to the story… suddenly I realized that all the while I was daydreaming, my husband had been putting up Christmas decorations. Without my notice, our house had been transformed into something resembling K-Mart at Christmastime, on steroids. Gaudy red and green adornments glared at me everywhere I turned, like neon signs.

 Ugh! I panicked. Quickly I did the math and realized it was only mid-November. How was I ever going to make it all the way to Christmas, at which time I could finally take them down? Panic soon gave way to boiling over anger. How could my husband do this when he knows how I hate knickknacks, especially around the holidays? Seething, I tried to get up and follow him out the door to tell him how angry I was before he left me fuming for the rest of the day. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t get up. I struggled against an unseen force that held me paralyzed until finally… I woke up. I sprang to my feet only to relax into the wonderful realization that it had all been a dream.

I hate to admit it, but having a nightmare like this one is probably a sure sign of being a control freak. Needless to say, I like having my environment orderly and simple. I am easily overwhelmed by clutter. It seems a large part of my time is spent trying to keep my life, possessions, responsibilities and relationships all at a manageable level, where I feel a sense of control.

The issues involved with having a prodigal child are not manageable. I cannot control his choices, his safety, his happiness, his effect on family dynamics, or his beliefs about me or about God. Deep down I feel responsible for all these things because he’s my son. But the other day I sensed God speak to me about my children. He quietly said, “Let’s think about them as My kids.” It’s a subtle shift in thought, but it takes the pressure off. Instead of feeling like I’m responsible, it helps me let go of that need for control because, as their Father, God has assumed the responsibility for my kids. Their salvation and the full rescue and redemption of their lives is in His hands. He calls me simply to walk alongside them, follow the Shepherd’s voice, and to “Be still, and know that I am God…” Psalm 46:10