Control, the concept, crops in my mind often lately. I am realizing, I
 have none. I strive to have it, even if I say, God is in control. I am 
not alone.
In Summer Triangle, my main character, Maria, 
wrestles with control of her family. I, as a mother, incorporated my own
 desiring of control. I wanted the clean home, but always fought that 
battle with time in, working full time. Maria controlled her home when 
she was able to go part time. But she still worried about her children. 
As a mother I feel responsible for the family's health, happiness, 
future and being godly adults.
I was talking about my dad 
yesterday to a co-worker. The stress of healthcare leads sometimes to 
unhealthy habits. He was going to smoke a cigarette. Surprised, I asked 
him about this, as I didn't think he smoked. He doesn't, but when stress
 takes over, he gives in. I recalled my senior year of nursing school, 
with my mother seeming to be dying, planning a wedding anyways and the 
pressure of nursing, I turned to Virginia Slims. Yet, the habit never 
stuck because my dad in his nonjudgmental manner kept it from taking 
over me. Dad was like Aslan, he could attack, but mostly he controlled 
it with love. We knew that, not with a fear, but respect of his power as
 a man.
As an adult, when David and I lived with my parents for a 
time, I sat at the breakfast table with Dad one morning, alone. He could
 hardly articulate his fear. He couldn't control life or how he may be 
as an old man, if his mind went. Having to place his mother-in-law in a 
nursing home weighed on him. As a family, though, with his wife also in 
ill health, Grandma couldn't live at home any more. I think he also 
remembered great Uncle Dave, an ornery old man at times, a bachelor who 
tried to rule our house.
Jacob, from the Bible, also comes to my 
thoughts. I read the account of his return to his homeland. He worried 
about meeting his brother, scheming and planning the approach. Esau, ran
 to his brother with open arms. As my children were young, I shielded 
them from the world, when maybe I should have embraced people more. 
Would more people have known Jesus if I hadn't hid? A convicting moment 
stirred up thoughts that morning.
The last few years show me what I
 always said, God is in control. We pray, but we don't control God. He 
wants to hear from us, but He still knows the whole scope. He knows the 
vase He is forming. We are to yield.
I read Job in the Bible, too,
 many times, trying to figure this all out. Hard times come. Like Job, 
we do want to know why. Job was not a silent sufferer. A cosmic bet in 
the first two chapters threw Job's controlled life into turmoil. At the 
end of the book, God does not have to explain Himself and we are not to 
explain Him, either. A life of control never promised. Yet, in a belief,
 Job prays for his friends and he is blessed. Even if we are not blessed
 in this life, we are to obey God and care for others.
A friend 
encountered a storm of large proportions. She questions religion, faith 
and God. In her anger, any words about faith would not comfort, like 
they do for believers. But sometimes, those words ring hallow for 
believers, too, if we are honest. One lesson I learned from reading Job 
so many times, is his friends should have just remained silent. We offer
 a hand, our hearts, but words are overrated.
Psalm 131:2 But I 
have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its
 mother. Yes like a small child is my soul within me.
Jesus said 
we must be like a child to enter the Kingdom of God. We need to quiet 
ourselves to hear the peace and comfort from God. Quit asking, "Are we 
there yet?" Relax and trust Dad to know where we are going.
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