I am a control freak. There I said it. Though, if you know me this is no surprise to you. I like to have all of my ducks ordered, named, tagged and categorized. In this, life feels safe and tidy. I take great pleasure in coloring within the lines. Ah, this is the life!
It seems, though, that life delights in gathering all of my ducks and throwing them in the air, allowing them to land where they may. There I am, scurrying frantically, gathering a feather here and a dropped tag there. Madly, I attempt to reconfigure all of my prior categories; alphabetically of course. Symphonies of quacks reverberate, sounding eerily familiar to the resonance of a good belly laugh.
Occasionally, I don't require life's assistance at all as I can launch the horde of them solo. After I have feverishly scampered about, attempting to retain a portion of what was, the scenario is similar. I end up in a heap at His feet clutching the few feathers I have assembled. He gently reaches for my hand. If I'm going to hold His, I must let go of those feathers. Ahh! There they go...
He pulls me into His lap and just holds me. Not a word spoken by Him concerning the definition of insanity. He quietly takes my hand and heals the indents the prior feather furry has left. The longer I am willing to linger in His embrace the more serene I become. Once again, I am captivated by His furious love for me. Once again I can breathe. Until, a yellow feather catches the corner of my eye and in true toddler-like abandon- I'm off again.
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