I guess "out of control" is usually used in a negative way. But this morning, from my spot in the loft overlooking the trees in the backyard, I'm appreciating a different perspective.
Life is always full of things we can't control. For someone like myself who likes to plan ahead, make lists, and know what to expect, the uncertainty present in the everyday is often a bitter pill to take. Now as we're in the final days before Rowan's birth, uncertainty is swirling around like...well, my normal way to describe it would be like a whirlwind. But this morning, for a precious time that I hope is longer than it is short, uncertainty is swirling around me like a warm, comforting blanket.
Embracing the lack of control is surely what we're meant to do. Thinking we have too much power gets us into trouble all the time, and expecting too much order in the universe causes people pain on a regular basis. There's the simple thing like: I ordered something recently from online, carefully measured to be sure I ordered the right size, and then when it got here it didn't fit. Why? Did I look at the chart wrong? No. Did the company send me the wrong size by mistake? No. The item was clearly marked with a size, but after calling a lady at the company who asked that I physically measure with a measuring tape, we found a manufacturing error. This particular item came to my door from across the globe via a small internet seller in Texas, was ripped open by me in eager anticipation, only to disappoint with its inadequacy. There was no controlling it, at least not by me.
There are other life-changing events over which we have no control -- in fact, over which the entire human race has no control. Things like catastrophic earthquakes come to mind, but so does something much closer to home. When I first got a positive home pregnancy test, we made a doctor's appointment. We went in for the initial visit and got an ultrasound which indicated I was about 5 weeks along. There was obviously an egg sack, with something on it that would become a baby, in my uterus. Its size was only a few millimeters. Two weeks later, we went back and got another ultrasound in which we heard, and saw, Rowan's heart beating. His size was still only millimeters. In human pregnancy, somewhere between 5 and 7 weeks gestation is when a tiny group of cells get together and somehow, miraculously and without explanation, decide to start beating. My doctor says medical science has no idea how this happens.
Finally, there's the lack of control that is affecting my life the very most right now: when will Rowan be born? Depending on how you view the world, you'd say "when he's ready", or "when God is ready", or maybe "when your body produces the right chemicals that cause you to go into labor". But regardless of how any of us sees it, there's one thing certain: nobody knows when it's going to happen. Just yesterday my doctor said we really have no idea why women go into labor when they do. It's a mystery, and another thing we can't control.