Control Freak

Okay, I'm not gonna lie; within the last few days I feel like I have sloughed off the cliff from" settling for a little less" to "if I didn't absolutely have to get out of bed, I wouldn't".  I am flaking apart piece by piece.  I think my organizational skills must have stayed in bed, and I definitely left my sanity at the doctors office. When my kind nurse practitioner saw me back again, she said "I don't think micronor is the right birth control for you." I said, a bit manically, "JoAnn, I think a vasectomy is the right birth control for me!", and then when they told me I was not as far along as I hoped, and I was faced with another month of exhaustion and all day nausea, I admit, I had a rough time swimming to the surface.

Surprise though this pregnancy was, I quickly developed a vision of how things would go: me and my bump running 3 miles a day, eating our fruits and vegis, wearing cute maternity clothes that I'll never (Please God) have to wear again, and finishing up in our new house, and finally being settled. 
This pregnancy has instead, served to remind me on every front, how little control I really have, and what a control freak I really am.  I want to tell God, " I JUST WANT THINGS TO RUN ON SCHEDULE!!"or "ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY????" Learning to do things on His timetable is not easy for me. This is a lesson that has been revisited in many guises many times.

Christianity is a tough gig for me, control freak that I am.  I don't just want to sit back and accept that there is nothing I can do, Jesus did it all.  He is the only one who could.  There is no meditation plan to self actualization, no list of accomplishments to check off, indicating that I have earned my place, no rigorous discipline to whip me into worthiness, just acceptance.  Just like this pregnancy.  It's a done deal, one that ends in love, but must begin with the hardest thing of all, acceptance.