(out of) control



1. to exercise restraint or direction over; dominate; command.

2. to hold in check; curb:

Three months ago the concept of control was like a rug yanked from underneath my feet. The yanking happened on a Wednesday evening and only took a few seconds. I was driving from my house over to a friend’s house for my monthly book club meeting. I was 10 blocks from home and stopped in a line of cars that were waiting for a light to turn green. I was sitting there one moment and the next moment was being hurtled forward. I heard loud noises, sounds of something breaking and screeching. The next sensation was a burning smell. At first I was so confused I wasn’t sure what had happened. Did I do something wrong? Was the car on fire? My next thoughts went to “Oh My God the baby”. We were 5 weeks pregnant that very day.

I needed to get out of the car. I saw people beginning to come around the car. I was screaming for help.  I kept trying at the door and when that wouldn’t work I rolled down the window. It took a good minute to realize that my door was locked, which is why I couldn’t get out. I unlocked the door and fumbled for my phone. I got to the sidewalk and continued to scream and cry in a panic. People were coming up to me and telling me that I would be okay. I cried out that I was pregnant. I cried out of panic, out of fear, and out of heartache. I called Paul and could barely put into words that there had been an accident before I handed off the phone to let someone else explain what had happened.

I stood outside talking to neighbors, EMT’s and eventually the police. The details of what had happened began to fall into place. The man driving behind me looked away from the road to fiddle with his radio. He didn’t realize that the cars had stopped. He plowed into my car which pushed me into the SUV in front of me. The force of that impact pushed the SUV into a pickup truck.

I spent the next couple of hours coming to my senses in the ER room. Eventually I could start cracking jokes in a Charity like fashion. I had the wonderful company and support of Paul and my dear friend Robyn. Everything looked fine at the ER. I was bruised and banged up, and I would be sore the next day but nothing was broken. I learned that because the baby was so well cushioned in my body there was no concern of miscarriage or harm from the accident.

 So I went home and fell asleep of exhaustion.

The next morning I woke with extreme stiffness, soreness, and pain. As I lay in bed, I realized I had absolutely no control in the situation. I had gotten into my car with a false sense of control. I knew the car, myself, the roads but none of that equals control. There was nothing I could have done differently sitting in my car that night. Even if I had looked up into my mirror in time, there was nowhere for me to move my car to.

Once the realization that I did not possess any control had sunk in, I was completely comforted and overwhelmed by the knowledge that God was 100% in control the whole time. And while we lost the baby for unrelated reasons a few weeks later - God protected me and protected the baby throughout the whole ordeal.

Control is a funny thing. I know I walk around thinking I have it through the decisions I make. I believe control is a construct we make up to feel less anxiety in life. In reality I cannot control anything or anyone. I’m just not that powerful. I am truly comforted though that there is a God in control of every minute detail of my life.

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