Do you ever believe that the power to rescue or ruin someone else is in your hands?

Last week, I sent my kids out into the world for preschool. The days leading up to that launching were not pretty. We were trying to make some decisions regarding the kids’ schooling, and I was a swirling mess, filled with this relentless voice of shame telling me that I singlehandedly held the power to rescue or ruin my kids with this one decision.

The voice of shame is the voice of the Serpent in the Garden: “You can be like God. You can know everything. You can be more than human. Just take the bait.” This sounds great. I can be more than human? I can be like God? I could be perfect? Well, sign me up!

And we gave in to the first and the greatest temptation of all time . . . to blur the distinction between humanity and God. To believe those voices telling us we can be, must be, perfect. To believe that we could be in control.

Last week, I began believing that I had to be God in order to be a good parent. I began believing I had to make the perfect decision OR I was a deficient parent. There was no emotional space for my humanity. Just this shame-filled expectation that I had to be more than human or I was decidedly less than human.

This was the outcome in the Garden. They took the bait, and they immediately felt shame. When we believe we can be perfect, we ultimately end up feeling like a failure.

Because . . . we will never be able to do enough; we will never be able to become God. We will always fall short. Our best attempts at perfection, at control, will only leave us feeling deficient in the end.

In the midst of my swirling, I read this. I wonder if you need this reminder as much as I did:

“I am not God. I cannot control others I love. I do not own their problems; therefore, I must learn to leave them in God’s care. After all, God loves them even more than I do and wants only good things for them. The Higher Power’s plans for them are far superior to anything that my manipulating and scheming could bring about. What a relief not to be God!” (from Today, a publication of Emotions Anonymous)

Ultimately, this reading was a reminder that I am human. No more and no less. I do not need to be God. I am not God. I cannot fill the role of God in anyone’s life . . . not even my kids’ lives.

Are you believing that it’s all up to you? That the fate of those you love is on your shoulders?

The practice here is to remember that we are human—no more and no less.

When I rest in my humanity, I am simultaneously trusting God’s God-ness. The truth is, I’m not always sure I can trust what he/she’s doing up there. I’m not always sure I can trust that he will bring things to an acceptable resolution. I’m not always sure I can trust him with those I love. I’m not always sure I can trust him to fix the mess I’m staring at. Can you relate to that? (I wrote more about this here.)

We got through last week. The kids were loving school. AND THEN, this morning one of the kids had a MAJOR meltdown over going to school. All my swirling, all the shame, all the “see, you just ruined your kid” stuff came crashing over me.

The only thing that’s helping is to remember the truth that, though I am these kids’ parent and that’s a very important job, I am not God. I have to parent out of my humanity and not my futile striving to be perfect. How might I nurture and support and love my kids without falsely believing that I must be their God, that I could somehow be all-knowing when it comes to raising them, that I must be perfect or I am a failure?

And, taking this one step further . . . might I be able to forgive myself for being imperfect, for being human?

So here’s my prayer for myself today (as the swirling is still with me) and for you (as some of you are living with a low-level ache):

God, PLEASE show up for me. Please step into the places where I am feeling pain and fear. My big feelings tempt me to want to take over, to try to do your job for you, to take matters into my own hands, to believe that I have ultimate control. Please help me breathe. Please help me to be still and know that you are God. Give me words to pray. Help me to stop striving and thrashing and swirling. Bring me peace. Soothe the rough places. Be God for my kids today, especially that sweet one who is struggling. And please be God for me. Amen.

Is there a situation in your life currently where you are believing you must take on the role of God?