I have a confession to make. I'm a control freak.
I totally admit, I'm a bit hormonal and tend to deal with my stress and anxiety of change by wanting to control everything. By nature, I'm one of those awesome organize freaks--you know, the type to have routines and lists and spend time cleaning out the junk drawer because it makes me feel calm.
Along came God in my ear telling me to loosen up a bit and let Him take control. Easier said then done, right? I felt that God *did* have control, and I was just being the best version of myself for Him. Well fear not. God sent me a clear sign that I was wrong and in actuality I didn't have full trust in Him. That beautiful little sign was sent to us on August 11, 2007. She came in a tiny 2 lb bundle called Emily. She was born 13 weeks due to my water randomly breaking, and none of the doctors could tell why. Not much I could control in that situation. I couldn't even hold Emily for an entire week. This was not what I had planned and organized for my first few days as a new mom! Slowly I learned to let go and embrace God's strenghtening love and His grace.
However, there comes days like today when I just want to do things according to MY plan. Since I have gestational diabetes, it's crucial that I stick to a strict diet calling for 2 egg whites, skim milk, and a small carb every morning. Gross. I didn't feel hungry, so I felt proud of myself for forcing down cheerios and milk. I promised myself to eat those eggs at snack time. So there I was washing dishes at the sink with Leo whining at my feet. I was making a plan for the day; organizing my chores and listing out the most proficient way to spend our time. All of a sudden I saw stars. I've fainted twice already this pregnancy and I knew immediately what was going to happen. I quickly reached over to a bowl of clementines and desperately tried to peel that sucker to inhale it. I was too weak and stumbled to the kitchen table and fell straight onto the chair, faintly hearing Leo crying in the background. When I came to, I realized, sweet! I'm actually ok! I didn't crack my head open! I'm still alive!! Emily is singing to herself in the playroom and blissfully unaware of something that would have traumatized her for the entire day! Awesome--Leo's only crying because he wants my clementine!
But then came the horror: what would have happened if I *did* break my neck and needed emergency care?? How would anyone know to come get me?! What would my kids be doing?! My phone is password protected and all the doors are child locked and bolted all day. The organizer person in me needs a plan, and I just don't have one. Emily is still too young to really even understand what constitutes an emergency. So that's when I realized that I would just have to work with what I've got and hand the stress over to God. Please pray that our guardian angels will protect us! As for now, I need to remember to put all my trust in God.