Don’t You Hate Feeling Powerless?

Last week my daughter and I sat in front of the fire quietly reading, and suddenly our dog, Buddy, began howling.

It was not the howling of “Hey, there’s a UPS truck out front; I need to check it out!” but rather the howling of, “Someone is torturing me, help!” My daughter and I looked up from our respective books and saw nothing alarming. No torturing cat, no tail caught in the recliner, no spilled hot coffee.  It only lasted a few minutes, and then the night proceeded in peace, the incident forgotten.

The next day, however, it happened again. This time was worse, not only in noise but in duration. Buddy howled and whined and looked at me with wide eyes begging for help. Once again, searching even in doctor mode, I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I checked his paws for thorns, his body for tender spots, his ears for mites. Nothing.

“Buddy, I wish you could talk,” I told him.

Over the next few days, more episodes occurred. Finally, at 8:00 PM on Friday, came the worst one yet.

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My Word for 2020: Cooperate

Its that time of year when we balance looking back with looking ahead. We look back at the regrets and mistakes of the past year and vow not to repeat them. We look back at the joys and blessings and try to figure out how to keep them.

We map a New Year filled with all the good and none and of the bad; make our plans and resolutions, all the while declining to acknowledge that we aren’t really in control.

Remember Woody Allen’s saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans”?  I don’t envision Him sitting up in heaven blatantly thwarting my dreams for a perfect life. I do see Him smiling and asking, “Why do you insist on going your own way? Why don’t you listen to My voice and let Me help you?”

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Control and Worry and Trust, Oh My!

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about trust. Such a simple word to say; such a difficult thing to do.

I realize I don’t quite trust anyone but myself. I spend a lot of mental energy devising back up plans: an alternate dinner in case my daughter forgets its her turn to cook; a dog sitter list in case my regular one cancels at the last minute; a different route to work in case there is flooding or road work. If I’m honest, I don’t even trust God; I ask for His help but always have a plan of my own in case He doesn’t come through. I waste so much time preparing for events that never even happen. What an exhausting way to live!

Maybe it grew out of the knowledge that no one is perfect and that even those we love can let us down. More likely it grew out of my ongoing need for control -another simple word, but one that can wreak havoc on my life. I bet you can relate.

Control is illusive. Every time I think I’ve come up with a contingency plan for the problems in my life, something unexpected pops up. Every time I think I have my schedule – or my house, or my patients, or my diet or my exercise, etc. – under control, something unexpected derails me.

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Help! I’m Drowning!

Although we lived on a lake in my early childhood and I knew how to ice skate, I never learned then how to swim. I loved the water; I just didn’t feel any overwhelming desire to be under it.

Then came third grade swimming lessons at the community pool. I tried to love the lessons, really, I did, but there was nothing fun about being cold and wet. My tense paper-weight-like body refused to float and instead I reliably sank. While the other beginner students jumped in and out with joyful abandon, I gently lowered myself inch by chilly inch into the water. Instead of graceful arms and fluttering feet my strokes looked like a flapping chicken hit the water. So, when the day came for everyone to jump off the diving board, I was not enthusiastic. 

My mom wisely stayed home that day, and my dad came instead. I had no intention of going off the board, but he gradually talked me into it. After watching everyone else have their turn, and noting no near-death experiences, I decided I could at least try. Here is a key detail though: I still couldn’t really swim. Everyone thought that as soon as I jumped into the deep end, weeks of lessons would suddenly click, and I would paddle proudly over to the edge and climb out. That most definitely did not happen.

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The Lifelong Challenge: To Love, Not Control

It was a hot, hazy August day in Virginia Beach, and one that taught me a lesson about my impossible desire to be in control.

Neil, Gina and I were on a mini-vacation before she started kindergarten. We had a cozy base camp on the beach with chairs and umbrellas, a well-stocked cooler and a giant pail of sand toys. We even invited a babysitter along, so Neil and I could truly relax.

At one point, I realized Gina and the sitter weren’t anywhere in sight. “Neil, do you see Lisa and Gina?” He scoured the shoreline but couldn’t see them either. “They probably just went on a walk to look for shells. They’ll be right back,” he said calmly as he popped a beer can and settled back into his beach chair.

After about 15 minutes they still hadn’t reappeared, and I got worried. “I’m going to look for them,” I told Neil, and headed off in the direction I last saw them.  Along the way I saw plenty of 5-year-olds picking up shells and building castles with imaginative abandon, but no Gina. I saw plenty of teenagers splashing tentatively on the shore, discretely checking around to see who was watching them. No Lisa. Continue reading →