Who's in control of this car, anyway?

"For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe." -- Larry Eisenberg

More than halfway through this annual journey we Christians call Lent, and I still find myself trying to control where the Holy Spirit is leading me in these daily reflections.

Yet time and again, as I pause to write, I find myself reflecting on whatever is happening in my life at the moment. I suppose that makes it more spontaneous feeling and meaningful, at least to me.

So what am I going to do at the end of another long Friday at work, when my whole day seems to have been a series of efforts to exert some measure of control over an environment that seems, at times, to be spinning away from me?

Think about ways to give up some of that control, of course.

As a Type A personality, that thought scares me senseless. You mean I can't control other people's actions? I can't take everything I want out of a good news story, waive a magic wand and instantly transfer it into a group of mostly new reporters? (No one did it for me, so why do I expect to be able to do it?) I can't hit a control key on my computer keyboard and make all errors instantly disappear from our newspaper on a daily basis?

Why the heck not?

Because that's not the way life works? People are human, and humans are going to make mistakes -- including me? Bummer!

So on this long, winding road called life, who's in control of this car, anyway? The simple answer is God.

But is it really that simple? Or is God really in control? Maybe he's like the toddler who sends his Matchbox car rolling along the edge of the top stair, lets it fly off, then watches as it tumbles to the bottom of the staircase. Will it land upright? How scuffed up will it be when it gets there?

I'd love to think God is with me every step of the way, helping me make the right decisions. And when I fall down, he's there, reaching out a hand to help me stand up again -- maybe even helping me brush the dust off my pants. (Or like my son, Conner, likes to do, apply the Neosporin and Band-Aid to my cut for me.)

But what if he just put this whole world in motion and is sitting back, watching things unfold like a NASCAR fan waiting for the cars to crash spectacularly as they squeeze too close together at high speed?

Either way, there's not much I can do about it. Maybe that's today's lesson -- stop trying to exert so much control, do what you can, and let the car go where it's going to go. And when fender-benders happen and the car gets dented, grab a hammer, smooth it out the best you can, get back behind the wheel and keep driving.