I’m having one of those days. One of those days where it feels like there was absolutely no good reason to get out of bed. Really, I’m still reeling from yesterday. Yesterday was a day I wish I could re-do from start to finish. Satan got a grip on me yesterday, swung me around a few times, threw me up against a wall a time or two, danced a little jig, and left me for dead. I wished for death by the time 11:00 p.m. rolled around last night. I didn’t want to deal with the day anymore. All I could think about was what had gone wrong and what I wish I could have done over. All I could think about was what I didn’t have any control over.

I need it. I can’t operate without it. Control.

Today I’ve been rather weepy. Thinking thoughts of how I’m not the person I want to be, how no one in their right mind should want to be around the person I am, and wondering what happened to the person I strove so hard to become.

These are all nasty thoughts. Yet my thoughts seem to be the only thing I can control. Therefore, I think them.

What is it about control? Why is it so desirable for me? Why do I feel that unless my hand is involved in every situation, every situation will go wrong? Why do I feel that when I’m left out of a loop, the loop has to have a short circuit and everything will crumble around me unless I can find a way – any way – in to that loop?

Why, when I know there is so much out of my control, I feel like I’ve failed when there was something I couldn’t control? I convince myself that if I had done something differently, I could have controlled the outcome. If I had done this opposed to that. That opposed to this. If I could…..just……control.

Why, if I am not supposed to maintain control….why, if there are things that are out of my control, do I have the purebred desire to control? Why, if I am supposed to live and let live, be and let be, go with the flow, roll with the punches….do I have the tendency to go nuts when something is “out” of my hands? How can this trait that has helped me to succeed in so many areas so many times before, be the absolute death of my spirit, and cause such rage, despair, and sense of failure?

I am wrestling. I am really wrestling. Why did I fall flat on my face (figuratively, of course, I have no scratches…) yesterday? Why, when I’ve worked so hard to focus on who God is and who He’s made me to be, did all of that fly straight out the window yesterday? Should I not have control over my reactions, actions, words, and deeds? Did I have control yesterday when I did the things I did and said the things I said? If words and deeds are actions of the heart, then why can’t I at least control what I feel, and how I feel about what I feel? Can I say the word “feel” one more time in a sentence? :o)


I just want to go back to bed. This wrestling is exhausting me. Control. It’s meaningless. But yet I so desire to have it.

Ecclesiastes 1:1-11

1 The words of the Teacher, [a] son of David, king in Jerusalem:
2 “Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”

3 What does man gain from all his labor
at which he toils under the sun?

4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.

5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.

6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.

7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.

8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.

9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.

10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.

11 There is no remembrance of men of old,
and even those who are yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow.

2 Replies to “Blah.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.