Because My Plans Never Really Work Out
I admire the people who don't feel a need to control things.
The people who allow others the grace to be and the room to become. The people who let others say "this is who I am" and believe them, and affirm them, without expectation.
I've never been that person.
My childhood was filled with sibling time; we were homeschooled for a while, and there are four of us, and we did everything together. I was the oldest, and a perfectionist. My constant need for control usually meant being in charge of them, winning at all the games, like that mean kid on the playground in Nickelodeon shows. I didn't think I was mean. I was just right. I knew what games I wanted to play, and I knew it was Morgan's job to go get us snacks, for instance.
I've grown out of some of that as I've learned to give myself grace. The need to control, for me, usually comes from a place of self-judgement. If I hold myself to a standard of perfection, I can't comprehend less in other people; besides, in order to create my perfect reality, other people have to comply. When we fight for the picture in our heads of how things should/must go, it rules out the freedom of others to act autonomously.
I have learned and am learning that perfection in myself and others is not only impossible, the expectation is stifling. It creates the need to hide who we really are. Grace lets us come out of hiding.
There is still so much I try to control. The chorus of voices in my head telling me what life should be, how others should act, how my life plan should go, is the loudest thing I've ever known. It makes me good at ethics, but it makes me bad at grace.
Here's what I think the voice of God tells me: It's a lie that I'll be happy in the cage of my own expectations for myself. For one thing, it's never enough. It's like running longer and longer races and never feeling like I've done enough. For another, my picture of the possibilities is too small. God's invitation to life is always going to be bigger and sweeter than I thought was possible. In a twist of irony, it always happens that my idea of the perfect life plan is less than what God wants to offer me.
I think self-judgement and perfectionism and control of others are connected, and I think accepting grace lets us give it to ourselves and each other. God has offered us the grace to be who we are. It's just the truth. The opportunity to let go of our blueprint for life is a gift that comes from it. It's a lie that we will be truly happy any other way.
The people who allow others the grace to be and the room to become. The people who let others say "this is who I am" and believe them, and affirm them, without expectation.
I've never been that person.
My childhood was filled with sibling time; we were homeschooled for a while, and there are four of us, and we did everything together. I was the oldest, and a perfectionist. My constant need for control usually meant being in charge of them, winning at all the games, like that mean kid on the playground in Nickelodeon shows. I didn't think I was mean. I was just right. I knew what games I wanted to play, and I knew it was Morgan's job to go get us snacks, for instance.
I've grown out of some of that as I've learned to give myself grace. The need to control, for me, usually comes from a place of self-judgement. If I hold myself to a standard of perfection, I can't comprehend less in other people; besides, in order to create my perfect reality, other people have to comply. When we fight for the picture in our heads of how things should/must go, it rules out the freedom of others to act autonomously.
I have learned and am learning that perfection in myself and others is not only impossible, the expectation is stifling. It creates the need to hide who we really are. Grace lets us come out of hiding.
There is still so much I try to control. The chorus of voices in my head telling me what life should be, how others should act, how my life plan should go, is the loudest thing I've ever known. It makes me good at ethics, but it makes me bad at grace.
Here's what I think the voice of God tells me: It's a lie that I'll be happy in the cage of my own expectations for myself. For one thing, it's never enough. It's like running longer and longer races and never feeling like I've done enough. For another, my picture of the possibilities is too small. God's invitation to life is always going to be bigger and sweeter than I thought was possible. In a twist of irony, it always happens that my idea of the perfect life plan is less than what God wants to offer me.
I think self-judgement and perfectionism and control of others are connected, and I think accepting grace lets us give it to ourselves and each other. God has offered us the grace to be who we are. It's just the truth. The opportunity to let go of our blueprint for life is a gift that comes from it. It's a lie that we will be truly happy any other way.
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