Fussy Me...

I’m a fixer. My children might even call me fussy. I’m constantly fixing throw pillows on the couch and lining them up perfectly, fussing over my daughter’s bedspread so that the dust ruffle flows nicely down the side of the bed-frame and putting things in order on counters and book shelves. The poor child has a knee-jerk reaction when I go to touch her hair and the boys have learned to duck and cover when I come after them for any reason…mostly to fix a shirt collar or fuss over whether or not they’re well groomed (to my standards.) I am working on my issue and have informed my kids that this is my problem, no reflection on them. I don’t know when it began but I do understand the root of the problem now more than ever.

You see, my constant need to keep the universe in line, one dust ruffle at a time, is just an outward manifestation of an inward need to be safe, and from my psychological vantage point safety comes in the form of order. No order, no safety. So, I lend myself to the everyday business of trying to keep order in a chaotic world. If I feel that I am in a threatening relationship with someone who is out of order and loses control to easily, I try to help (fix) them, because 1.) I care about them, sometimes more than I realize and 2.) I need to feel safe in their company, lest they turn and attack me for whatever reason.

My favorite word (ask my family) is ‘proactive’. I believe deeply in the notion that one should be proactive in life in order for things not to get out of control. However, at times I approach a situation prematurely instead of proactively. You see, not everyone senses danger lurking at every corner and sometimes, people don’t perceive a problem at all. So when I feel my Spidey senses tingling and I want to jump in and fix what I see as threatening, it sometimes can cause a dilemma.

Timing is everything. It goes hand in hand with permission to act on a situation, which is what I am learning more and more.

I take my roles in life, as a mother, and a friend quite seriously. Because of this, I am constantly fussing in my mind over the people that I care for the most. Sometimes that fussing finds its way out of my mind and wanders into a conversation or not so subtle gestures and hints…people just LOVE that.

Over the last few days, I've been in nonstop talks with God over my issue to save the world, thus saving myself from this cruel world and He has lovingly given me permission to resign as Chief Cook and Bottle Washer over the lives of those around me. I have been promoted to the position of ‘love’. At first, I was shocked at the news that God didn't need my help anymore in this way, but with each passing day, it feels more and more like a release than a demotion.

I still care deeply for the people in my life and while I’m sifting through the issues and rubble that come from living on this earth and being inside a human body, I will still feel the need to be a ‘help’ from time to time...but only with permission and guidance from my Supervisor.

I can’t promise that I will change completely, but I will work hard to direct most of my fussing to dust ruffles and throw pillows and spend more time praying rather than saying…