The story of ‘The Fall’ has always captivated me.
I have been contemplating Genesis 3:3 recently. Particularly, I’ve been reflecting on the prominent position of the tree of the forbidden fruit – the middle of the garden. In my view, the position it enjoyed suggests that Adam and Eve would have likely encountered this tree regularly, daily even.
This led me to consider the thing in my life which may be the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The thing in my life which enjoys a prime position. The thing that tests me on my belief in God’s word and tempts me to lean on my own understanding? The thing which challenges my obedience and dependence on God? It would be my need to feel in control of my life.
I’ve been strong-willed for as long as I can remember. More than that, I have had experiences throughout my life which exposed me to the discomfort of vulnerability. The latter, I believe, most of us have in common. For me the result was an increased sensitivity to power relations and control, particularly in social settings and personal relationships.
In my life, disobedience to God often masquerades as perfectionism which comes from a belief in one’s ability to control outcomes. This moment is a case in point. I’m struggling to write because I continue to allow my perfectionism to immobilize me. I am passionate, thoughtful, creative, brimming with ideas and eager to shoot them out into the abyss. I’m also consumed by questions about the details – how, where, when, and what to present. Surprisingly, I don’t often consider the ‘why’. I shudder to think that may simply be because I am yet to establish my ‘why’. Though in all candor, I cannot dismiss the idea. What is my why?
Well, it’s complicated. I want to say that everything I do, I do for the glory of God. That is certainly my ongoing, foundational aspiration. But why am I at my desk on a weekday evening, unable to drum up the momentum to write a coherent piece while also feeling like what lies beyond this simple blog post could change my life completely? I’m having to fight my need to know the details. I’m having to trust that the words will come. I am having to trust God’s providence – his sovereignty. I’m learning that our obedience to God’s instruction is borne out of our faith in him.
Although in the past I craved the feeling of control, even its mere semblance. I had not appreciated the value of self-control. The notion of self-control is interesting because, as I see it, its the only control we can truly exercise. The only thing one can really control is oneself. It requires that you be able and willing to relinquish the illusion of control over those things which are beyond the scope of your control – beyond yourself. It is a practice of inner restraint and self-discipline.
I am constantly being reminded of how small I am in the greater scheme of time and space. It would be masochistic to expect of myself that I have control over the result and impact of a blog post, let alone the details of the course of my life. The cool thing about self-control is that, whether we know it or not, every moment is a test of self-control and, therefore an opportunity to exercise the muscle. Particularly, self-control is concerned with whether you can delay and moderate gratification. It influences your response to your daily alarms, your relationship with food, and how much you say about your weekend when your colleague asks on Monday morning. More than being the greatest expression of control, self-control is a fruit of the spirit.
I am doing this because it’s what I have to do. I know that because writing is what ignites my proverbial fire, but also what provokes my intimate fears and insecurities. This has made me all the more enamored by the oversufficiency of God’s grace. The challenge to wear my heart on my sleeve has revealed to me that I didn’t have a sleeve on which to wear my heart before I committed my life to God.
Walking with God has taught me that peace and self-control are closely related. I would not prefer to have the final say over everything I care about. Realistically, that’s simply too much pressure. I would rather concern myself with well, myself. I prefer to busy myself with maturing in my understanding, expression, and presentation of who I am and my contribution to the world. Perhaps that’s my ‘why’. I care about understanding my behaviour, along with the attitudes and beliefs by which it is informed.
– Lele M
Lele Muthali 