Confession #11: I don't want to obey You.

Lately I've been trying my absolute hardest to give God control of my life and allow Him to direct my path in whatever way He sees fit. It seems silly to try to control the One who created every living thing that was, is, and will be. It seems ridiculous to attempt to gain control of a life that is predestined. It seems foolish to think you can outsmart a god who is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. Yet every single day, I am desperate to take control of a life that isn't mine. I'm anxious and scared and terrified. And I can't seem to shake this "funk" of fear.

I don't want to obey You. I don't like the thought of giving it all up to You. I don't like the idea of not knowing what tomorrow holds. I don't like being oblivious to knowledge, to understanding. I want to be in control. I want to be the driver, and I want You to be a passenger. I try to fight the urge inside of me that tells me to ignore everything You say. To pave my own path, to try to matter to someone else, to try to make something of myself. I want to work hard and become skilled in my field and have an abundance of friends and never miss home and finally meet my husband and graduate and get a steady career and plan my wedding and start a family. I want everything to flow together seamlessly -- without interjection, without any surprises.

The truth is, this life is not mine. This life is a gift bestowed upon me by my Father, the only One who will never fail me. I'm not of this world, and all of the minuscule details of the life I imagine are irrelevant compared to the amazingly blessed path He has already made for me. I just have to let Him take control. I have to learn to stop trying to control everything, stop searching for my husband, stop stressing about the details. In a sense, I have to stop being me. I've always been a leader. I've always liked to take control of the situation and make the tough decisions. Today, right now, in this moment, I want to call the shots. I've always wanted to steer the boat and make it to land safely. But what is a boat without a sail? What good does a hollow shell do me without something to catch the wind? In this life, God is my wind. He designed my boat long before I ever came along. He gave me a beautiful beach, gorgeous sunsets, and soft sand. He blessed me with a hard shell, resistant to all of the storms and salt and exposure. He set me free at sea, free to navigate as I'd like to and make my own decisions about the ship's maintenance. If I take care of it, if I honor its creation and allow it to serve its purpose, if I let God's wind catch my sail and direct me toward Heaven's beaches, all is well. But in order for that to happen, I have to get my sail out there and allow it to react. If I try to make progress without it, I'll go absolutely nowhere. No matter what desperate attempts I make to get from point A to point B on the open water without that sail, I will forever be stuck. All of the fear, all of the desperation, all of the anxiety falls heavy on my heart and forms itself into a massive anchor tying me to the middle of the nowhere.

Maybe God's plan doesn't perfectly line up with mine. Maybe I want the Atlantic but instead he laid my boat gently on the open water of the Pacific. Maybe He has something in store for me that is insanely better than the plan I have in mind for myself. Something filled with more joy, more peace, and more understanding than I could ever gain on my own. All of the kicking and screaming I do now isn't helping the cause, but pushing me further and further from God's will in my life.

I cannot control everything. I cannot direct the wind and the rain and the water. All I can do is try my hardest to keep my boat in tip-top shape, set sail, and allow God's wind to take me where He has destined me to go.