Who's REALLY In Control?

I will admit that I like being in control. A lot. When I’m not in control, it feels as if I’m treading water in the deep end of a pool and no matter how much I kick my feet, I keep sinking further into the depths.

I had that unsuccessful treading water feeling when I was fifteen and had to take a visual field test to check how good (or not so good) my peripheral vision was. If I passed, I could enroll in driver’s training.

My parents had ingrained in me the importance of studying from a young age, and so I studied for everything in school, usually receiving a good grade for my efforts. But this test was different. There was no studying involved. My vision was either there or it wasn’t, and in my case, it wasn’t.

I remember my mom getting the phone call about the results, and I remember putting the pieces together from her tone and her responses that it wasn’t what we had been hoping for.

I was silent for a while after that phone call, trying to imagine what my future would look like without being able to drive. It was the first time since being diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa that I truly felt inhibited by the disease.

But I went on to graduate high school and attend college two hours away from my hometown. My lack of a driver’s license didn’t limit me too much because my classes, job, church, and housing were all either on campus, or within walking distance from it. Upon graduating from college, I naively thought I could waltz into a job. I had a college degree; what more could employers want?

I was sorely mistaken on those assumptions, and my job search lasted about six months until I finally landed my first “grown-up” job. Statistically speaking, I am fortunate. I have heard it can sometimes take up to a year to get that initial post-college job. However, during those six months of waiting, I didn’t feel fortunate. I felt like a failure.

There was nothing to write (aside from my resume and cover letter), read, or study to attain the job I so desperately wanted. Again, I was treading water with my head just barely breaking the surface.

Of course, there were other things I could do, such as networking, and even getting online certifications in specific subject areas. I did those things, but the feelings of powerlessness and being out of control lingered.

Not being able to independently get myself from point A to point B placed a pretty heavy restriction on where I could send my job applications. I began searching for remote jobs only, but that proved extremely difficult, given the larger pool of applicants. Spoiler: I did end up with a fully remote job. Praise God.

As much as I don’t like confessing it, there came a time during my stint of joblessness that I felt the crux of my situation harkened back to that day when my mom got the call about my visual field test results. If only I could drive, I would have an easier time finding a job. And I was angry.

I was angry at God mostly, for creating me the way He did, with eyes that refuse to function as eyes should. But one day somewhere in those six months, I made the decision to turn towards God rather than away from Him.

Every night before going to bed, I prayed. I talked to God as one would with a friend, sometimes with tears streaming down my face. I listened to Christian music and podcasts, and I said yes to attending a Bible study with my sister. These changes didn’t immediately lead to God presenting me with a job, as a parent would reward a child for good behavior. What did occur, though, will surely have a lasting impact on me. I strengthened my relationship with Him, while invigorating a new sense of hope for what was to come, and incredibly, a sense of joy in that current season.

Now, as I write this and reflect, I firmly believe that God was working, even though it felt like nothing was happening. He was using that six-month time period to refine me, my prayer life, and my relationship with Him. And in doing so, I learned that I was never in control. At least not in the way I thought I was.

Refining moments can become defining moments

The poignant memory that sticks with me from the day I learned I wouldn’t be able to drive is me sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the muted TV screen. I could have easily stayed on the couch and allowed myself to tumble head-first down the deep well of self-pity, but I didn’t. I got off the couch.

This isn’t to say I don’t find myself in that well sometimes. I do. But I force myself to claw my way out, even though remaining in that dark place feels much easier.

What I have learned in my life is that sometimes God only needs a moment to refine me and direct my attention back to Him, and other times, He takes much longer (say, six months longer). These instances shaped me and better defined me because they first better defined who God is.

God is good, even if it doesn’t feel like it. During that six-month stretch of unemployment and rejection, I would have given just about anything for a job. However now, I am so grateful for that time of waiting. Had I gotten a job straight out of college, I probably wouldn’t have recognized the importance of clinging to God and cultivating my relationship with Him. Also, the seed of this very blog probably wouldn’t have been replanted in my heart.

When it comes to not being able to drive, some days I still find myself feeling bitter about my situation. But on snowy and icy days, I thank God that I don’t have to deal with it.