Thank God I'm Not in Control

Recently, there have been so many times that I wish I could just wrap up my babies—from my 2 year old baby to my 16 year old baby—and protect them & rescue them & make everything ok for them.

First glance just looks like a mama bear loving her kids, but I know—for me, for now—it’s deeper than that.

I want to be in control. I want to be the one writing the story in the way I think the story should go. I resent the hardship & hurt, and I doubt that God’s lovingly using it to do something good. I am fearful and anxious and desperate and sad—oblivious to the goodness and sovereignty of my (and their) Heavenly Father.

I want to be God.

My mama’s heart for my kids becomes idolatrous when I forget the God above it all. When I try to rip them from His hands, into my own. When I doubt and decide He doesn’t actually plan good. When I believe that I could be a better God than He.

Thank God I’m not in control. Thank God that He is. My kids are safer in His hands than they could ever be in mine, and I willingly relinquish them into His loving & wise care.