I like to think I’m in control. I carefully organize, plan, and plot my personal and professional life in incremented goals and self-imposed deadlines to give myself the illusion of order in the chaos of life.
And all too often that illusion comes crashing down.
Today I found out that I am NOT pregnant. Again. Back when I thought I had control over something as simple as my own fertility choices, I planned on having four kids. I dreamed of having those four adorable little munchkins 1-2 years apart so that I could start around 23 and be done by the time I was 30. Instead, here I am, years later, with one beautiful $12,000 IVF baby and thousands of additional dollars spent in my attempts to have more. This past year alone I’ve spent MONTHS plagued by hormone-induced insanity in my pursuit of children. I’ve had two cancelled IVF cycles (due to my dysfunctional uterus), one embryo that didn’t survive its Ice Age, and two failed IVF cycles--thanks to embryos that chose not to stick, despite being given every opportunity of making themselves at home in an eager, medication-prepared uterus.
That’s three children that didn’t come to be. Three sparks of life that failed to ignite. Three dreams shattered. I had already figured out what day they’d be due. I guessed their sex (2 of them were boys, and 1 a girl). I had begun to think of names and plan on how I was going to announce my pregnancy and how I was going to introduce them to their big sister. Plans. Goals. Dreams. Control.
And what do I do when I feel out of control? My anxiety ramps up. My temper flares on a short fuse. I try to find someone to blame for the chaos my life has become-- the meaninglessness of my suffering, the unfairness of it all. I cry, complain, and snarl at God… how could He possibly be in control? And if He is, how can He possibly be Good?
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7)
Like a tantruming, entitled toddler, I throw myself onto the ground and scream in my Father’s face. How dare he defy my will? How dare he claim to know what’s best for me? How dare He?! Does He even love me anymore? Does He even care?
“Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity...No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.” (Romans 8:35, 37-39)
Just like a young child who is convinced that what they want is good and they deserve to have it on their timeline, without understanding the love and good intentions of their parents, so too do I fall back into spiritual immaturity and demand my wants on my timeline and misunderstand God’s plan for me.
Control and anxiety have become indicators of pride in my life. I become self-focused and self-centered. I take my eyes off of God and aim for a different prize. I become consumed by my desire to accomplish my goals and attain my desires---and God or other people better not get in my way.
I recently came across a quote by C.S. Lewis that said, “Humility is not about thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” By that definition, I am one of the least-humble people in the world. Pride isn’t always about loud boasting. It can also be about quiet self-absorption. I am so easily consumed by how I feel, what I want, and what others must be thinking of me, that there is often very little room left for thinking about God or the needs of others.
And I’m supposed to be leading ministry??
I often hesitate to tell anyone my struggles now that I am in charge of Family & Children’s Ministry at my church. I feel pressure to be perfect. To have it all together. To be a “prime example” of Christian living to those I lead. And yet, by attempting to control my image and attempting to put up a facade of “Christian perfection”, I fall far short of God’s standard of “perfection.” I take my eyes off of Him. I shift my care away from others and begin to only care about how I’m being perceived.
Control is a false comfort. We cannot control anything. We are utterly powerless in this life. God is the only one who can control anything, and yet we refuse to trust Him. We doubt either his competence or his goodness. We face tough times in the chaos of life and we begin to question whether God truly cares.
But the truth is, He does. It is no mistake that the bible says “Do not be afraid” more times than any other phrase. He knows that we are easily shaken by our fragile, powerless, mortal condition. He knows that we falter in our trust. (Uh, hello?... Peter nearly drowned himself after suddenly doubting the Guy walking on water in front of him...if there was ever someone to have reason to trust 100% of the time, you'd think it would be a disciple in the middle of witnessing a miracle!)
But His promises remain: He is with us. He will not leave us. He will not stop loving us. He is in control. He is eternally Great & Good, despite what our broken World would have us believe. We are challenged to persevere and grow. We are challenged to give our foolish sense of control over to God. We are challenged to believe God’s promises even when we don’t feel like it. We are encouraged to keep going and come out of our trials stronger than we went in.
I will persevere. I will be humble in the face of personal pain or chaos, because of the Spirit of God working in me. The love Jesus has already shown me is enough to motivate and sustain me. I will choose to believe that God is with me, even when times are tough.
Because “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”