Battling for Control

A while back, I had to read a book called "Confessions" by Saint Augustine. And I feel the need to do that in this blog post. Not so much for anyone else's benefit, but because I need to sort through all I have felt and experienced lately, and writing is how I do that.
So, I somewhat begrudgingly must admit that I am a control freak. I mentioned in my last post how when I saw my dad lying there and and there wasn't a single I could do, I realized how out of control life really is. Well, I'm still struggling with that. I know, because I lost control the other night and I freaked out a bit. It was the youth 5th quarter at our church and the theme was blacklight dodgeball. Let that sink in a minute. Blacklight dodgeball, as in dodgeball, in the dark, with some glowing shirts and shoes here and there. I was having a blast, locating the ball, dodging, and blocking. We were on the third or fourth game, I believe. I never saw it coming until BAM! A bullet of a ball to the face. I dropped to my knees and sat there. Just sat there. My nose began bleeding, and still I was stunned. Some friends came to my rescue and almost literally dragged me into the kitchen. I am now both ashamed and greatly amused by my reaction.
In the days following, I mused over my ridiculous reaction. How could I lose it like that? I began to realize how strong my desire for control truly was. Then one night, I read Job 11:7-9. It says, "Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty? They are higher than the heavens- what can you do? They are deeper than the depths of the grave-what can you know? Their measure is longer than the earth and wider than the sea." Wake up call! I am once again reminded that I do not have to be in control. The Gods who knows everything- more than I could possibly comprehend- is in complete control. Why must I keep fighting?
This should end on a happy little note. I learned my lesson and I move on. WRONG.
Fast forward to last night, when I expressed to my mom my constant state of fear from lack of control. Every time she leaves the house, I'm afraid she may not make it back. Every time I tell someone goodbye, the thought that it may be my last goodbye to them haunts me. I am very afraid. But I long to be strong! I long to have the kind of faith that moves mountains! I mean, I survived the death of my dad, life should be a breeze from here on out. But it isn't. It's a constant battle. And I want to win standing on my own two feet.
So, I went to bed last night, and Psalm 91 comes back into my mind. "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High God, will rest in the Shadow of the Almighty. I will say to myself "The LORD is my refuge and my shelter, My God in whom I trust."" I thought that dwelling in God was just for the hard, painful times. But nowhere in that verse is that implied. God reminded me, and has reminded me constantly since last night, that I am supposed to dwell in him all the time. I don't have to fight to live. I don't have to fight for control. I can rest in God's arms. I can dwell in his safety.
Since that realization, life hasn't been a breeze. It hasn't been all smiles. It has been a continual battle. A battle to totally depend on God and not myself. This very afternoon, I was on the brink of utter despair. I go to God's word and Pslam 20:6-7 speaks to my aching heart, "Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed; he answers him from his holy heaven with the saving power of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God." (emphasis added)
Wholehearted trust and dependance don't come easily for me. But I am tired of being afraid and tired of trying to be strong on my own. I have a God who will set me free, if only I will let him. It may seem like a risk, it may seem tiring. But God has it ALL under control.