So, my one week break kind of turned into a two week break.  It took 1 1/2 weeks of working 11-12 hour days to get the new store up and running and then, after being away from the other two stores for that long, they were both needing some attention at that point.  Stir Easter up into that mix and here we are, two weeks later.  Oh, I'm so glad to be getting back to a normal schedule.  While I love my job and what I do, I'm happiest when I'm working three or four hours a day as opposed to, say, a dozen.  I guess I'm just lazy like that.    

So, for the last couple of days, I've been trying to play catch up here at my house.  I don't know what it's like at your house but, if I leave my men folk, basically, all alone for a couple of weeks, some serious housecleaning will be needed at the end of that time period. 

I packed up my Easter-y decorations.  Cleaned.  Did some laundry.  And started to cook my first home-cooked meal in quite some time and then I realized that I needed to run some errands like, oh, you know, purchase some actual food to cook.  Two weeks is a long time, y'all. 

Anyway, I thought that my errands would be some good driving practice for Carson.  Yeah, he's had his driver's permit for several months now and, yes, he's a good driver and, no, this isn't the first time I've ridden with him but it is usually my custom to let Davis take care of teaching the youngsters to drive.  I'd rather be someplace else when driving instruction is underway.  Like safely at home.  If I am in the car, I want to be in the backseat with calm and collected Davis in the passenger seat.  I suppose I prefer not to see what's oncoming.  I think Davis must not be as apprehensive of the death angel as me.  While I'm very excited to, one day, see Jesus, if it's not in the next little while, that'd be ok, too.

So, anyway, Carson did really good Saturday but, still, I'm just no good at being a learner's permit chaperone.  I'm just not.  There was a point when we were needing to pull out of a parking lot into the traffic and I was like, "OK, GO, GO, GO.....NOW......GO.....HURRY!"  I put this in all caps because my instructions were spoken in all caps.  Then, later, I'm like, "Carson, you've GOT to SLOW DOWN!"  "Mom, I'm going 35!"  Funny how fast 35 seems when you're riding with someone who started driving a couple of months before your last oil change. 
        
I remember when Blair was learning to drive.  She was the first student driver I'd ever had to experience, so riding with her felt like........well, kind of like being on a roller coaster and suddenly your car becoming unhooked from all the others as it went careening out of control into steep drop-offs and sharp turns and, no matter how much you screamed, it wouldn't help.  Yeah, like that.  She wasn't a big believer in applying the brakes until the last millisecond before colliding with whatever object was ahead.  It was cardio at its best.   

I know I overreact.  Trust me.  I know this.  The kids would prefer to drive their Daddy around any day.  I'm like....."Stop!  Watch out!  Get over!!"  And he's just like.....whatever.  So calm and relaxed. 

I think I've traced my reluctance to ride with them back to one thing.......I kind of have a control problem. 

I know. 

Shocking. 

As a matter of fact, I'm that one in the group who always volunteers to drive no matter who I'm with.  I prefer to be in the driver's seat.  One of my few exceptions is Davis.  I don't mind riding with him because, well, he's like a driver's ed instructor.  Riding with him is like being in a funeral procession.......all the time. 

I don't think my control problem stops at the steering wheel either.  I prefer to pack everyone for trips.  That way, I know they have the right clothes with minimal wrinkling.  I'd rather do the laundry after having several run-ins with Davis' indiscriminate use of the dryer.  I prefer to do the cleaning.  Load the dishwasher.  Wrap the Christmas gifts.  Fold the clothes.

Basically, I have a delegation problem.  I'd rather do it myself so I can control how it's done.  

There. 

I said it.

I have a problem. 
 
I was thinking about how I treat God like a 15 year old driver, sometimes.  "Go this way.  Watch out for that!  Slow down!  Speed up!  Why are we going this way?  Are you even paying attention?  You missed the turn!  Where are you going?   Here, let me drive!"  I'm quite sure that He doesn't need as much instruction as I want to offer.  I'm pretty positive that He's just a little more capable than I am in the driver's seat.  And I'm fairly certain that, if I'd just let him have the wheel, it would accomplish several things......
 
(1) It would take a lot of stress off of me to let Him drive and navigate the curves, potholes, and traffic jams.

(2)  He could take me places that I don't even know about or haven't thought about and He would know the best way to get there. 

(3) My faith would grow if I'd learn to just relax in the passenger seat and enjoy His company while we ride.

(4) I wouldn't get on His nerves near as much as I do now.


So, this week, I'm going to work on being a better passenger.

In every way. 


Hope your week gets off to a good start!