Control

I’ve been rereading Seven by Jen Hatmaker.  It was one of those books I loved so much that I couldn’t put it down the first time.  It is also one of those books that challenges you to change, so this time I am reading it slowly and purposefully with the intent of asking God what He wants me to change in my life.  (By the way, this is a book I think everyone should read.  Click on the link above and scroll down to see what it’s about.)

In the first chapter of the book, Hatmaker discusses a sermon given by the missions pastor of her church.  Ben and I discussed these questions the other night on our drive home:

1.   What in my life, if taken away, would alter my value or identity?

2.   What causes an unhealthy change of attitude, personality, or focus when “it” becomes threatened?

3.   What is the thing outside of God that you put everything else on hold for?

It was the second question that gripped me.  You see, I have control issues. I am a very Type A first-born. I make menu plans. And grocery lists. And chore charts. And morning and evening routines. And lunch menu options. And a daily schedule for the kids in the summer.  (And during the week-long ice storm last year because they were starting crawl up the wall and drive me nuts.)

When I was in sixth grade I self-imposed making a complete outline as a study guide for a Science exam and showed my teacher the next day. (Kiss up, I know.)  He told me I should become a lawyer.  I didn’t.  But I married one. 

How two type A personalities get along so well, I don’t even know, except that we are uptight about different things.  He likes to pick apart language and meaning and intent.  I mostly just want my classroom and house and kitchen run a certain way.  We actually do enjoy cooking together—as long as we’re cooking different things.  If I ask him to help me with what I’m cooking, I have to resort to something akin to Lamaze breathing because he’s not measuring things exactly and with the right utensils.  And please don’t put dirty dishes in the rinse side of the sink or the neighboring countertop, thank-you-very-much.  I don’t even pay attention anymore if he’s doing laundry because it’s not the way I would do it.  (I know, most of you are saying “Shut up already, he’s doing the laundry,”—which is why I let it go. Most of the time.)

We have four children that we share with two other people to whom we are no longer married. (Aren’t you glad I cleared that up?)  My children have at least eight great-grandparents and nine grandparents between all of their respective families, and it’s too late at night for me to count their aunts and uncles and cousins.  We have managed to align the planets just so, cocking our heads ever so slightly to the right, and sticking our tongues out to the left, in order to have the four of them on the same normal schedule and mostly the same days over the holidays.  Unfortunately, I am normally unable to move heaven and earth to arrange to have all four or sometimes any of the children at events that do not fall on our regular days.  That’s just the way our life works.

That being the case, scheduling is absolutely necessary for us.  Plans keep us sane, food on our table, and our house in a livable condition.  On the other hand, with four children who have two different families and one combined family, two full time jobs, and all of the activities such as sports and church on the side, life does not always go as planned, as you can imagine.  This is where I struggle.  Between wanting to be flexible and go with the flow and feeling like I have failed because we didn’t follow the plan.  (That failure issue is a whole ‘nother post for another day.)

During our discussion in the car, I informed my husband that I am perfectly fine going with the flow on mission trips and the like.  Nothing ever goes as scheduled.  Plan B, or even C or D, is almost always what is executed instead of the original intent.  He was so kind to point out that I’m okay with this because the plan is to be flexible.  Ugh. Point taken.

Right now, I don’t know exactly where the balance is between planning and being flexible.  But I do know that when I feel crazy because things aren’t going as planned, and I feel like I’m losing my identity and value as a person as a result, I’m missing the big picture.  Not planning is so not an option, but neither is living life wound up so tight.  I'm sure it's a matter of perspective and attitude and relying on grace.  Proverbs 16:9 says, "The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."  In my interpretation: get ready for things not to go as planned.


Maybe for me that looks like applying the mindset I use in missions to my everyday life:  We have Plan A, but get ready to go with Plan B.  Be flexible. Go with the flow.  Walk in grace.  Be present and intentional with the people you're with instead of tied to your schedule.  


I'm still wrestling this one out.  I'll be sure to let you know when I've got it all figured out, but I wouldn't hold your breath...




Update: As it turns out, I stumbled upon a group of bloggers who are doing a "Summer of 7."  This seems like the perfect opportunity to wrestle out some of the stuff God is doing in my heart, sooooo I'm jumping in.  Care to join?