Last Thursday I woke up excited for the day. By the time Steph and I had driven to Galveston, gone through the wedding rehearsal and dinner, driven back to Houston, and arrived where we intended to stay for the night, most of my eager anticipation had skittered away. In place of it, a deep frustration snaked itself into my brain. I felt out of place at this celebration of the union of two people I’d only just met. I knew that, as Stephanie bounced around the island going from gorgeous to jaw-droppingly adorable, I would be either “stuck” somewhere alone, just waiting to burden her again when it came time to come pick me up, or slowing her down at each step of the beautification process. On top of that, I’d left my phone charger in Dallas by mistake, meaning I would be nearly impossible to reach if not within earshot. No matter what, I saw myself as extraneous and irksome. I wanted nothing more than to control the situation and make my anxiousness stop.
I never really considered myself a “control freak.” I rather pride myself on the ability to play it cool and roll with whatever punches fly at me. God knows how wrong I am, and was fully ready to teach me.
The past few days whipped me around in a whirlwind of activity. A road trip to Galveston for a wedding (with mini road trips between Houston and Galveston to sleep), dozens of phone calls for support, and multiple meetings later, I’m now sitting on my fourth day away from work, and wondering how I ever thought I could control anything.
Unfortunately for my psyche, I intended to start making support raising phone calls during the free time I knew I’d have. In case you were wondering, calling people, even close friends and family, to ask them to give money will not reduce anxiety. It does quite the opposite. Things went fairly well, and most of the calls I made were either well received, or went to voicemail. Even so, I couldn’t help but wish I could rig the situation to turn out how I wanted it to.
The rest of the weekend went similarly: me wanting to fix things, but having no power to do so.
On Monday, I missed work due to sickness, and, after refusing to let go of the plans I’d made that day, spent most of today feeling sick as well. And while the situation should be adding to my frustrations, I realized something God has been trying to teach me.
The more I try to control a situation, the more out of control I feel. The more I choose to let go of control and trust God, the more at peace I am with life.
So now I’m here, sitting in bed, still feeling sick, knowing I can’t afford to miss more work, not sure what will happen with my support raising situation, not sure of anything at all… except that I’m losing control, in the best possible way.