I’ve been working on this post for awhile, sure that God is wanting me to share this, but not quite knowing exactly what to communicate. I realized this morning as I was rereading my drafts, that maybe the reason I haven’t been ready to share it yet is because I’m not on the other side. I haven’t figured out the neat and tidy solution. I’m not sharing an inspiring “what I’ve learned” lesson. But this is where I’m at, and maybe some of us can encourage each other in this struggle together.
Surrendering control is not my strong suit. That probably does not come as a surprise to most of you, especially those who know me well. I like to know exactly what is going to happen, plan what is going to happen, and have a thorough check-list prepared to ensure that it happens with all details accounted for. (Bonus points if it’s color coded).
But in life, as we know, things do not always go as we plan or imagine. Young adult me was sure that after marriage I would work for a few years and then have babies. I would stay home while I raised my always obedient children in a peaceful environment that cultivated each child to be their very best.
As I write this, my 21-month-old is on the back porch, sitting in her Little Tikes car wearing only a diaper and shoving a donut in her mouth, which I’m pretty sure has been licked by at least one dog. So, the reality is, obviously, slightly different. I’m a full-time working mom and I’ve had to let go of control of a lot of things. For four days a week, eight hours a day, other adults are loving on my kids–teaching them, singing to them, and hugging them if they’re sad. I don’t see every milestone or know everything that has happened in their days and that is sometimes a hard truth to swallow.
Don’t misunderstand me, I love my reality and all of its messiness. I am so grateful for where God has called me. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am where He wants me to be. I love that my girls see me pursuing God’s purpose in my life. I love the daily challenge to increase my leadership capacity and reach families for Christ. And I have had this conversation – this argument – with God many times, and always hear the same answer. You are where you need to be. Trust me. Most days, I’m good with that.
Then, I hear phrases like these:
“You work full time and have kids? I don’t know how you do it! ”
“That’s so great she’s staying home with her kids. That’s the best thing for them.”
“They grow so fast. You’ll never get this time back.”
My heart sinks. I spiral into my head and start doubting all of the choices and decisions we have made about our family. Should I be staying home with our kids? Am I robbing them of a childhood they deserve? Are they suffering without having access to me 24/7? Are they deprived of love? Are they not getting enough one-on-one attention? Do they doubt how much I love them? Did they even eat any vegetables this week?
Just like that, I take back the burden.
God has been challenging me on this a lot lately. I have laid this burden, this guilt about not being at home, at His feet a hundred times. Each time I revisit something that God has so clearly given me an answer on, I’m essentially saying, “I don’t trust you.” Each time I give it any mental or emotional space, or spend any time worrying or plotting to change the situation, I’m saying, “I think I could do a better job of this than you.”
But, why would I want to put my trust in someone who thinks like I do? God has an eternal perspective and a never-ending, reckless love for me, my kids, and my family. He knows what He’s doing! I love these verses from Isaiah:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9, NIV)
Like I said, I don’t have the answer. I just know that I’m choosing to surrender daily. I am holding my life, my girls, and our family with open hands. I’m asking God to do his Holy work here, and resisting the urge to control with every type-A bone in my body. Who’s with me?