We all do it.  We put that death-grip on things.  We become so petrified of losing control–so much that it seems to happen anyway.  Ironic, eh?  We forget that Christ is in control and we put ourselves in that place of power.  We forget that God is bigger than the struggles we face–bigger than the mountains we’re trying to climb as leader.  We are positive we can sink every basket and clear every hurdle.  We handle it ourselves.  And why do we do this?

My close friends and even that still, small Voice has been telling me that I’ve been slacking in the department of prayerfully trusting God to take care of the challenges I’m facing.  I’ve been ignoring those messages, like so many of us do. 

On the other hand, my mouth has been screaming reminders of this.

First, there’s the screaming pain: When I’m anxious or stressed, I tend to bounce my knee.  Of course, as I try to keep my stress on the DL, I have replaced the knee-bouncing with teeth-clenching.  This, in turn, has caused one of my molars to turn in a way that has exposed part of the tooth’s root.  When I drink cold drinks or warm foods, screaming pain surges from that molar.  Any temperature difference makes me aware of my tooth so I went to the dentist for the first time in a few years.  The dentist has said that clenching has caused this twisted tooth; upon evaluation, I realized that this pain only happened months after my life became extremely stressful and I ensued my controlling habits.  As I tried to hold everything together with my own death-grip, the consequences became a pain that I cannot ignore.  Instead of allowing Christ to remain in the driver’s seat, I took over once again.  I’m still alive and all this can eventually be corrected, but it’s going to take intentional effort, daily focus, and an obvious step back.

Secondly, there’s the terrible taste.  I was in a church service recently.  As singing was beginning, I pulled out some gum from my purse to cure my stanky breath.  I needed something to assist in stale breath and a slightly hungry tummy.  Minutes later, communion was offered.  Even though I got rid of the gum before participating, the minty taste remained in my mouth.  Upon receiving the body and the bread, the taste in my mouth was even more terrible.  I had tried to correct a problem on my own; if I’d just waited a bit longer, the small problem would have been cured.  Don’t get me wrong; I completely realize that communion is not for the sake of curing my breath.  But the conflicting tastes in my mouth reminded me that my efforts to solve my problems directly inhibit God’s work in my life.  I have to stop doing my own work and trust that of the Lord’s.  Instead, I need to step it back up–my prayer life, that is. 

So, now, I continue this journey with Christ, remembering that I’ve given Him control.  Remembering that He is smarter, stronger, bigger, and grace-filled.