What’s the Worst That Can Happen?
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.
Psalm 94:19
Before I got sober, I tried to control everything. That control, born from the fear of failing at parenting, marriage, balancing home and work, hosting, Christian-ing, etc. kept me captive in a constant state of anxiety about kids’ schedules, home responsibilities, work commitments, personal and professional relationships, body image, and social standing. I worried what people thought, I obsessed about how things “looked,” and I compared myself to everyone else while I attempted to calculate, regulate and even manipulate my circumstances to achieve perfection. It. Was. Exhausting. So, I drank to cope with the pressure.
Eve’s fear of not being in control completely rewrote history for all of us (Genesis 3). We can’t comprehend doing life any way, other than the way WE command. What a burden we’ve solicited! Commanding (and keeping) control is all-consuming. It creates unnecessary anxiety and breeds more fear. When Adam and Eve heard God calling out to them after they’d eaten the forbidden fruit, they hid, full of shame and regret. Since that day, we’ve committed ourselves to a perpetual cycle of self-reliance.
When we’re willing to differentiate between what we can control, and what we can’t, we unlock a more peaceful version of our life that’s always been accessible, if only we’d used the key. What key? Acceptance. It’s a healthy habit for every one of us who worries about things we don’t need to, who “bites off more than we can chew,” who can’t say no, and who’s afraid of failing. It’s the plan for escaping from that maddening cycle of trying to control, feeling the constraints and suffering the consequences. God consoles us through our acceptance.
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.
(Psalm 94:19)
When we trust Him, believing He is who He is, the beginning, the end and the master of all plans (Isaiah 46:9-11), we can rest in the comfort that God is in control, and everything works out for good, in His time (Romans 8:28).
Acceptance takes practice. We have to learn to give ourselves permission! A counselor once told me to consider the worst thing that could happen, anytime I was confronted by an issue that caused me anxiety or commanded my authority. But it took my twelve-year-old to convince me to try it. One Saturday in December a few years ago, I was overwhelmed by the number of commitments on our schedule. I was considering skipping my son’s basketball game to set up 40 outdoor luminaries I had purchased for charity. My youngest daughter, Addy, hearing me complain as I began assembling all the candles, paper sacks and bags of sand, asked, “can’t you just save them for next year?”
Wait, what? Could I? Is it really that simple?
What was the worst thing that could happen if I didn’t put out the luminaries? Would the neighbors banish us to a faraway kingdom? Would our photos be posted on the “MOST WANTED Holiday Scrooges” list? No! The worst thing that would happen is that our house would be one of dozens that weren’t lit up. I had already donated our money to the charity. They knew we were supporting their organization. The supplies could be used the following year. I looked at Addy and was reminded how outsiders looking in tend to simplify things. In her mind, the choice was obvious. Support my son playing a game he loved, or stay home to hang out with inanimate objects for the unknown approval of unnamed neighbors?
Acceptance also requires a shift in perspective. I’d always considered myself a glass-half empty kind of girl. I always felt like I HAD to do things. Then I learned the power of considering what I GET to do. During quarantine in the spring of 2020, I didn’t HAVE to stay home, out of restaurants, my favorite stores and away from friends and family. Our kids didn’t HAVE to miss spring sports. We GOT to spend time together as a family that never would have happened during a teenager’s typical life. What a gift we were given. We were literally forced together. We got to play games, binge movies, skip showers, stay up late and sleep in. Because our kids adopted this same mentality, we embraced the time together and literally made the most of it. My husband and I learned all about TikTok, the kids learned how to play Shanghai (I still have the leaderboard for the 36 games on the kitchen chalkboard two years later), and we tried new foods I never would have had time to cook otherwise.
But even with all the practice and change in perspective, life (and people) happens and accepting the unacceptable can only be done with prayer.
God, grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change,
the COURAGE to change the things I can,
and the WISDOM to know the difference.
It’s a simple prayer, I’m sure you’ve heard it. But have you ever really processed each word, even meditated over its meaning in quiet time with God? It’s powerful. It’s an active prayer of ongoing surrender. There are a couple of relationships in my life that illicit a whole lot more emotion than others. I obsess over things said and fantasize about things unsaid. They’re the conversations that make my blood boil, skin crawl and tongue loose. You know the ones! Accepting these situations is harder than others. So that serenity prayer goes on repeat. It’s Tracks 1-30 on my acceptance mental playlist.
Acceptance awards us peace when we’re powerless. God is in charge. Let Him be! He has everything under control. And the little stuff we’re determined to tame into submission under our own reign, is almost always meaningless in the grand scheme of things.
Practice Because We’re Imperfect
1.) Listen to “Trust in You,” by Lauren Daigle.
2.) Jot down a few small, minor things you’re trying to control right now. Brainstorm the worst things that can happen if you just “let them go.”
Examples:
Buying a store-bought fruit tray for the cookout instead of cutting it all yourself.
Letting your toddler skip a bath tonight instead of fighting with her again.
Leaving the house a mess instead of missing out on time at the pool.
Texting “OK,” instead of the long, detailed manifesto of defense that will likely perpetuate more hurt feelings.
3.) Let the Whomevers Whatever… ;)