And then one day...

When I was first getting sober, I had a really tough time with the idea of God. Rather, the idea that there is a God out there who knows better than I do.

Or rather, a God out there who knows so much better than I do that I should trust that God.

“Letting go and letting God” sounded pretty much like my basic nightmare. I had no idea I suffered from control issues until I really gave this idea some thought and realized I did not want to, and really COULD NOT, unclench and ride life to whatever eventually was laid out for me. Maybe if God could consult with me first, tell me His plan, and wait for my approval…but that’s not how it works. At all.

I struggled with the Serenity Prayer: “God, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.” I wanted to change it to, “God give me the power to control the things I cannot change.” Anything after that would be unnecessary.

If you’ve been following along, you know that all of my best laid plans have been sabotaged (mostly by me) and that this life has had more twists and turns than a Christopher Nolan film. The truth is I have no business being in charge.

None of this made sense to me until I heard it described in a podcast this way: There’s a mother and a child on a beach, carrying a large, heavy bag that holds all the stuff they’ll need for the day: towels and toys and lunch and drinks and sunscreen, tec. The child is small but is trying with all the annoying earnestness that mothers know so well to hold up half of the load. But the child is so much shorter, so it causes a strain. The child is weaker and slower, so it’s really just holding everyone back. The thing is, it would be so much easier, so much faster, so much LESS HASSLE if the kid would just let go and let the mom carry it herself.

This is how God feels about us.