Control

“Sometimes we need to plunge our minds into the ocean of God’s sovereignty. We need to feel the weight of it, like deep and heavy water pressing in against every pore, the deeper we go. A billion rivers of providence pour into this ocean. And God himself gathers up all his countless deeds — from eternity to eternity — and pours them into the currents of his infallible revelation. He speaks, and explains, and promises, and makes his awesome, sovereign providence the place we feel most reverent, most secure, most free.” – John Piper

Have I written about this cat? She deserves a separate post (with some photos). She is a gorgeous, four month-old ragdoll kitten who follows us around the house like a devoted puppy. She purrs like a maniac if we get within a foot of her, tolerates awkward petting from toddlers, lets us clip her nails, likes being held, and has fur like a rabbit’s.

But I guess I had forgotten that well, kittens are a bit of work. Not-quite but sort-of-like having another kid to take care of and train. I sometimes find myself getting mad at her for occasional poor behavior, and I feel terrible. It’s not good for the kids to observe, and it’s not always fair to the cat. Even though I’m supposed to love the cat unconditionally, secretly I’d like her to be perfect all the time.

That got me to thinking how much this desire to control others, to control outcomes, can be at the heart of my frustrations or anxieties. Desire to have a perfect cat; to control my kids being able to nap at the usual time each day, how they act and are perceived at school, how neat the house is, how many errands I can get done, and more.

Control is a huge thing here. People want to control their kids getting into colleges, their health being perfect, their work being productive. There is a sense that we should be able to optimize our lives—increase lifespans through particular diets, increase “success” by hiring college counselors, increase productivity by outsourcing tasks. I think that sense of optimization is so strong here because there is both a good amount of unspoken pressure—financially, to afford being able to live here; achievement-wise, because often achieving parents expect their kids to do the same—combined with a cultural emphasis on grassroots innovation. In an area this talent- and resource-rich, one ought to be able to figure out how to optimize conditions to achieve the right outcomes. Even our kids having unstructured play time must be something we deliberately schedule after being convinced by evidence-based research.

But in the end we can only control so much, and it seems to me the kind of fear that’s pervasive here is the fear of not being able to control outcomes, seeping out as a sort of pervasive anxiety. Someone has their kid in five activities—should I be putting mine in more? Someone is eating all-organic or no-sugar—am I losing out if I don’t do that? Someone just left a big company to join a start-up—am I getting in on the right opportunities?

Sometimes I need to refocus a bit on God’s sovereignty. Because that is the truth that shatters the illusion of control: to remember that everything belongs to God, that all occurs as he wills and nothing can occur that he does not will. That there is no global issue nor smallest detail of my day that is beyond his purview. And this is no stranger sovereign, but a God that has shown his love for me beyond any other, and has promised that all works for my eternal good. To plunge my mind into that is to be more reverent, more secure, more free. Freedom from anxiety or fear; free to enjoy the unpredictable; free to love people, and cats, for who they are.