A couple of weeks ago I was talking with a friend. We were chatting about how I realized that I’ve been trying to re-parent my adult kids over the past couple of years. (As if I could undo or redo everything I did wrong.) I mean, after all, I have grown some, have a billion hours of counseling under my belt, schooling, studying, and book reading on top of it all.
My motives have been right. I’ve wanted to save them from pain . . .wanted to save them from making the same mistakes I’ve made . . .wanted them to learn quicker than I did so that my grandkids have it better than they did . . . You know. Stuff like that.
This got me thinking about the many other things I’ve tried to maintain, manage, change, and manipulate over the years, out of fear and guilt . . .like trying to do noble, charity-driven things other people have been called to do but I have no business doing . . .trying to emulate this godly woman or that super-spiritual man instead of just being me . . .worrying more about how others perceive me rather than how I’m really doing on the inside . . .
In addition, it got me thinking about how much time and energy all of this has taken away from me living my life.
Have I been focusing on others’ lives so that I don’t have to face my own?
Nevertheless, after the last two years of intense soul-searching, purging, re-grouping, hormone balancing, and flat-out waking up, I told my friend that I decided it’s time for me to resign from my self-given role as General Manager of the universe. Trying to manage (code word for “control”) everything is pretty exhausting. I think I’ll let God take the reins now.
To commemorate the occasion and make it official, I wrote a resignation letter. I’ve included a copy of it here; perhaps I’m not the only one who needs to resign.
Here’s to taking our lives back…bravely, joyfully, and completely.