Illusion Interrupted

It’s a dangerous thing for a child to begin to believe that they are in control. Every parent knows this. It’s a common mantra in our house when our children become a little too presumptuous for their own good…

Parent: “Who’s in charge?”

Child: “You are, Mom.” or “You are, Dad.”

If our children forget this simple fact, they become indignant when our decisions “muck up” their lives. They are never truly in control of their own little worlds, but they occasionally come to think that they are for a time. And when their illusion finally happens to collide with the reality of our parental authority, tears are shed, frustration mounts, and lessons in respectful compliance have to be re-learned. It’s so much easier to parent them when they don’t lose sight of the fact that we are the determining factor in their lives. Sometimes, they need a reminder.

Sometimes, so do I.

I know that I am not the master of my own life. I know that God is in control, and that He determines my days as well as my breath. But sometimes that intellectual fact gets lost on its way to the depths of my heart – the place where it really matters. When my life is at ease and relatively predictable, it’s just a little too easy to look at my calendar in the morning and assume that things are going to go according to plan. My plan. I know in my head that God holds the trump card on my day, but He’s been playing His hand in a rather predictable fashion lately, and I’ve grown accustomed to the rhythm. I’ve grown presumptuous.

It’s at this point that I imagine God raising a parental eyebrow.

And in His sovereign wisdom, He allows the veil between His reality and my illusion to part for a time and the two collide. Tears are shed, frustration mounts, and I spot a lesson in respectful compliance coming my way. Like a loving Father with a small child, He comes down to my level, looks me in the eye and gently says to me, “Elizabeth, who’s in charge?”

You are, Lord