“Control freak! Now you gotta say Control freak who?”
After I stopped laughing at this student’s joke, inwardly I cringed. We teachers can be control freaks. In all fairness, though, it’s kind of expected of us.
We’re expected to be in control of our classrooms. We’re expected to maintain order and not allow things to descend into chaos. We have to act as managers of many things all at once, all the time.
There’s a difference, however, between governing and dominating. Students do appreciate it when a teacher keeps control of the class, but no one wants a Nazi for a teacher. It’s one thing to helpfully guide and contain your class, and quite another to act as if you have to control every aspect of it.
It’s not healthy to regulate students so tightly that they can’t breathe. Not all, but some of the decisions about their learning have to be theirs. They need to be allowed to make attempts at things without being hovered over to ensure success.
There are times it’s painful to let them make decisions that we know are going to lead to hardship and grief. It can be difficult to let go and watch a student struggle with something, and even fail.
What can also be challenging for teachers is not to carry over the watchfulness we have over our classrooms into our daily lives and relationships. I was just talking about this challenge with a new teacher-friend this week. We agreed, sometimes it’s tempting for us to go into control-freak-mode and try to manage situations that we should be keeping our hands off of.
Why can it be so hard to shake that mind-set, “If I don’t do something about this, then no one else will”?
That mind-set reveals an attitude of pride and unbelief.
Pride says, “I’m the only one who is willing to do anything to help in this situation.”
Unbelief says, “God doesn’t seem to be doing anything about this.”
So operating in pride and unbelief, we meddle in situations we have no business meddling in, all the while telling ourselves that we are trying to help. The truth of the matter is, we’d be better off minding our own business and leaving the person or situation to God.
Yes, there are times when it’s difficult to know whether or not we should intervene and act. But something I’m learning (oh so slowly it seems!) is that I have to check my heart and my motives.
- Is pride in charge of me? Do I think that I have the right solution, and that I know what’s best?
- Am I harboring unbelief? Do I think it’s all up to me, and that God seems to be asleep?
- Am I operating out of fear? Am I afraid of what will happen if I don’t get involved, and am I trying to control the outcome to make it turn out the way I’d like it to?
- Have I made myself too important in my own eyes? Am I forgetting that God has other servants who are available to Him, perhaps someone much better suited for this situation than I am?
I also think there is a direct correlation between how desperately we desire something and how likely it is that we will try to control the outcome. The more it matters to us, the more tempting it will be to meddle.
So, what’s the cure when we find ourselves slipping into ctrl-freak territory?
The first thing is recognising what we’re doing wrong, and confessing that to God, and to those who will keep us accountable for not doing it anymore.
Repentance involves agreeing with God that I’ve been operating from a place of pride and unbelief, and affirming that He is God and I am not.
If I think that I love a person more than God does, I am seriously deluded. When we ask why God would allow suffering, though, isn’t that what we’re calling into question? So I have to repent of how I am questioning His love, and affirm that His love is so much higher than mine, and His ways are higher than my ways.
I’m in Genesis this week, and as I read again of Abraham binding his son Isaac to the altar, I was struck afresh by his trust in the faithfulness and love of God. That trust was unshakable, even in the face of what seemed like a cruel joke.
That trust in the Father’s loving character was shown supremely in Jesus Christ as He faced the cross, and allowed God to have His way with Him, because He knew beyond all insinuations to the contrary that God loved Him.
When we trust in the Father’s loving heart and allow Him to control us, then we can respond in faith to His promptings and obey Him in what He is asking of us in regard to others. We let Him be in control and with an attitude of trust and faith, we release the outcome to Him.
There’s a little song I learned this year at our school musical, and the lyrics are so appropriate:
God is in control
God. is. in. control.
God is in control
My God is in control…
The God who is the very definition of love is in control, so I don’t have to be.