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.