I have my own plans.
This is often quite funny.
Just ask my children.
I was going to write a long post on how I enjoy being in control, and am gradually learning to roll with the punches and make do with how life goes. It is particularly easy to see I am not in control during this season of "social distancing" (and I prefer the suggestion I've heard of calling it "physical distancing", trying to be as social as we can without the physical proximity). My planned blogging time was eaten, though, by factors beyond my control.
I could have controlled B10's desire to bake complicated cookies by disappointing him with a "no" - that part was under my control, though it was clearly better to allow this wild element into our lives in order to give him control of the kitchen with myself in a merely advisory position. My advice was needed frequently.
Then, I heard the cries of "It's bleeding a lot!" coming from above E5's shrieks. H8 had whacked him in the head with a padded pole whose padding was apparently not adequate to the task. Head wounds do bleed more than other kinds, and although the blood generated here was disturbing it wasn't enough to suggest stitches would be needed. (Now there's an out of control situation I'm thankful to avoid - adding to our medical providers' burden in the middle of an epidemic). I calmed the children, pressed a wet cloth to E5's head, and waited for the bleeding to stop. Once I had washed out his hair and saw the cut, I was able to reassure him that it was only a few millimetres wide. I could control my children by refusing to let them play with padded sticks, and I attempted to add some control by prohibiting whacking people ("you can hit your brother's stick, but not your brother"). But childhood injuries are largely out of one's control even with strict rules.
My insides are still tied up in knots the way they often are when I am reminded I'm not in control. I am glad to have the reassurance that God, who knows much more about what I and my family really need, actually is in control, and his children's foibles don't cause him to lose control.
This is often quite funny.
Just ask my children.
I was going to write a long post on how I enjoy being in control, and am gradually learning to roll with the punches and make do with how life goes. It is particularly easy to see I am not in control during this season of "social distancing" (and I prefer the suggestion I've heard of calling it "physical distancing", trying to be as social as we can without the physical proximity). My planned blogging time was eaten, though, by factors beyond my control.
I could have controlled B10's desire to bake complicated cookies by disappointing him with a "no" - that part was under my control, though it was clearly better to allow this wild element into our lives in order to give him control of the kitchen with myself in a merely advisory position. My advice was needed frequently.
Then, I heard the cries of "It's bleeding a lot!" coming from above E5's shrieks. H8 had whacked him in the head with a padded pole whose padding was apparently not adequate to the task. Head wounds do bleed more than other kinds, and although the blood generated here was disturbing it wasn't enough to suggest stitches would be needed. (Now there's an out of control situation I'm thankful to avoid - adding to our medical providers' burden in the middle of an epidemic). I calmed the children, pressed a wet cloth to E5's head, and waited for the bleeding to stop. Once I had washed out his hair and saw the cut, I was able to reassure him that it was only a few millimetres wide. I could control my children by refusing to let them play with padded sticks, and I attempted to add some control by prohibiting whacking people ("you can hit your brother's stick, but not your brother"). But childhood injuries are largely out of one's control even with strict rules.
My insides are still tied up in knots the way they often are when I am reminded I'm not in control. I am glad to have the reassurance that God, who knows much more about what I and my family really need, actually is in control, and his children's foibles don't cause him to lose control.
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