Being out of control is rarely an enjoyable experience.
Whether it is losing control on snowy roads (as I did a month ago) and watching
the guardrail slide closer and closer, or facing unexpected or unwanted
circumstances such as illness or unemployment, or even dealing with the
inevitable results of aging, there are a lot of times when we just have to
accept things that are beyond our control. And being out of control can create
all kinds of emotional turmoil—fear, anger, depression, etc.
One of the books I’m reading currently is A New Kind of
Normal: Hope-Filled Choices When Life Turns Upside Down, by Carol Kent. She
shares her own story of having a son serving a life sentence for murder, but
she also draws lessons from the life of Mary as she watched Jesus grow and
eventually be crucified. There are many good points and quotes in the book, and
one that stood out to me was this:
“I
wish I could tell you I prayed that prayer of relinquishment and suddenly
transformed into a woman with absolute trust in God for her son’s future, but
that wouldn’t be true. I have to pray some form of that prayer every day, and
sometimes multiple times a day. When you are living in a new kind of normal,
relinquishment is an action step that often must be done daily as we get up,
let go of our control over a person or a complicated situation, and move in a
forward direction. It is never easy. It is never routine. It is hard work. But
it is necessary.” (149)
I don’t know about you, but giving up control is not
something that I really want to do. I like to control my environment, my work,
my relationships, my emotions, etc. I suppose that’s one reason I’ve never
wanted to get married—adding another person to my life also adds to my lack of
control over all aspects of life. (I won’t even mention having kids!) I think
we grow up with the illusion (or delusion) that the more we mature, the more
control we’ll have. But it seems like God is shattering that illusion in my
life. I’m realizing day by day how little I actually do have control over. And
for a recovering perfectionist, that’s a scary realization.
I hadn’t really thought about it before, but there are
plenty of examples in Scripture of people who were not in control of their
circumstances—Joseph, Job, Peter, Paul, and yes, Mary. They went through some
very difficult situations with varying degrees of faith in God. Carol Kent
makes this observation, “Sometimes, when we have loss upon loss, we think we deserve
to be in control of certain outcomes, if only to protect ourselves from
additional hurt and pain. It seems the most irrational thing we can do is to
let go one more time. We battle with conflicting emotions and ‘duke it out with
God,’ sometimes through prayer, but occasionally by being obstinate... Letting
go of our grip on predictable results and trusting God with our heart offering
is one of the most challenging choices we make” (160).
As I’ve mentioned before, one of my often repeated prayers
is “I do trust You, God. I know You are in control.” Sometimes that is an
affirmation of my faith, but sometimes it is a reminder to me of the faith I
should have. Sometimes I can willingly relinquish control to Him, but sometimes
I only realize after the fact that I’ve lost control. When that happens, the fight
to regain control is usually worse than just accepting the situation. Sleepless
nights, anxiety, and anger don’t really accomplish anything besides making me
feel worse. Perhaps one of these days I’ll learn to yield control to the One
who is already in control. But this is a hard lesson to learn, and it doesn’t
seem to get any easier the longer the lesson continues. And somehow I have a
feeling that this isn’t the only lesson on God’s syllabus right now. In fact, I
could name several that have been occurring simultaneously. In the meantime,
I’ll close with Kent’s prayer:
“God, I release to You what I cannot control. I hold [this
situation] with open hands. The Bible says Your angels set up a circle of
protection around us while we pray. I need that circle right now, not just for
protection but for comfort... As I relinquish my control over my dreams, I
embrace Your new kind of normal for my life. Amen.” (159-160)
