An image which described my struggle to surrender control,
was a wagon wheel suspended over a deep chasm.
My large family of 10 stood on the rim of a wagon wheel,
while I crouched on the hub,
frantically turning this way and that,
grabbing all the broken spokes,
desperate to hold the crumbling structured together.
I realized that I had to let go of this futile sense of responsibility and control but
I was afraid to stop,
afraid that one moment of inattention would cause my entire family to tumble down into the abyss.
I was trapped.
Yet, I realized that
my tension prevented natural, organic growth and healing.
My control acted like a wall, shutting out all divine intervention and grace.
My sincere concern and earnest self-sacrifice actually magnified everyone’s brokenness by
freezing everyone and everything.
Suddenly an arrow of light
pierced through my confusion.
It was as if a sharp pin burst a huge, black balloon of deception.
Suddenly the image was gone,
like a mountain done in by a muster seed.
I had been wrestling with an illusion,
a phantum mountain.
There was no dilemma.
I laughed at myself.
With joy,
I finally surrendered control.
The broken spokes were instantly repaired.
The kids and my husband started smiling.
I was free.
We were free.
