Control

I have two sons, aged 24 and 21. One of the most difficult aspects of parenting adult sons (or daughters, I imagine) is a lack of control. When they were younger, we made the decisions for them. Now that they are adults, they make their own decisions. And we watch those decisions play out in their lives.

It's the way it has to be, isn't it? It's actually one of the main goals of raising them - that they could live a life, making their own decisions. 

Why are we sometimes reluctant to believe that God has given us free choice? If we can let go of our children - because doing so is in their best interest and our own - why are we reluctant to think that God doesn't do the same thing?  

Or do we on the one hand say, "We have free choice," and then on the other hand think, "Everything happens according to God's will - God is completely in control of all that happens." Do we believe the second statement and not the first, or do we miss that believing both things is a disconnect?

Adam Hamilton, in Half Truths, says, "God is more like a parent who invites his children to make their own choices, even knowing they will sometimes make the wrong ones." If that is true, and I believe it is, then we have responsiblity for the consequences in the world, and it's much harder to blame God for them.

Another Bird Lesson

Another bird lesson.

When we are sitting outside, watching the birds, they do come to the feeder. They arrive one or two at a time, sharing the space. Some act a little skittish, flying toward the feeders and then "spinning" in the air, to return to the nearby trees, perhaps spooked by our presence. I'm always amazed, though, that many of them are brave enough to ignore us, and enjoy the seed with us sitting no more than five or six feet away.

But then, we get up and go inside, carrying our dishes to the kitchen, and the birds gather at the feeders. I can stand in our kitchen and watch them. They come from all directions and take their places, feasting.

Remember the book, "A Purpose Driven Life?" I think it's that one - the first line of the book is "It's not about you." When we step out of the way - either physically, emotionally, or intellectually - interesting things can happen. When we give up control, and move out of the way, ministry can happen. God can work - sometimes through us, and sometimes around us. But we have to allow it.

No Place God has Abandoned

Yesterday, I wrote about the John 3 passage about the spirit: "The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. (verse 8)

Another point that Rachel Held Evans brought up in the chapter I was reading was that we fail to notice God at work. If the wind blows where it chooses - if God works where God will work - then we can't predict that or control that. 

We try. We think God can't possibly be at work in the people we judge to be unGodly. In the denomination we would dismiss. In the homeless or the angry or the addicted. In the children or the youth or the elderly. Those aren't appropriate dwelling places for God, right? (she says, sarcastically).

Evans says, "...I assumed God to be absent when there is not a corner of this world that God has abandoned."

Can't find God on the street? You're not looking.

Can't find God in that person in front of you? You're not looking.

Can't find God on the playground? You're not looking.

Can't find God in the immigrant? You're not looking.

Can't find God in the church? You're not looking.

It's a heavy statement. "There is not a corner of this world that God has abandoned."  

There are places I would abandon. Good thing I'm not God. And that I can't control the wind.

Not in the Driver's Seat

The other day I was driving toward to meet the carpool.  My route takes me to an intersection where there is usually a line of cars, waiting to turn either right or left onto the main road. It's slow going, but eventually, everyone gets to go where he or she is going. 

On this particular day, a person was driving on the main road and wanted to turn right onto our side road.  She should have just turned -- she had the right of way.  Instead she stopped her car and waved on the person who was in front of me, wanting to turn left, and then she gestured for me to go ahead and turn right.  Neither one of us would have prevented her from turning onto the side road -- I wondered (and still wonder) why she felt the need to stop and take control of the traffic. 

Do we do that?  Do we needlessly try to take control of situations?  Do we find it very hard to release control?

When my younger son was learning to drive, it was necessary for either my husband or me to be in the car with him as he practiced.  We did pretty well, but every once and a while, J would scare us.  J asked, "Mom, you act nervous when I'm driving."

Well, yes.

No matter how well he was doing -- HE was driving, and not me.  I was out of the driver's seat -- not in control.  It's not a pleasant place to be.

Sometimes, I think, it is exactly where we are called to be.  What do you need to give up control of today?