Shara Saget and her husband, Pierre, lead a Dallas Fort Worth Church worship center. She’s a part-time criminal defense attorney, and she’s raising two teenage daughters. What I love most about her is that she’s so much fun. Here, she shares what she has been learning.
By Shara Saget
Receiving gifts or services from others can be fun surprises, but I prefer predictable events and people.
As much as I strive to prepare for life's unpredictable moments (i.e., schedules, budgets, end-of-life plans), one area consistently reminds me how little control I have...motherhood. Don't get me wrong; motherhood has been my greatest life accomplishment, and I wouldn't trade this role for anything. I am just pointing out that motherhood can stretch you in ways you didn't know you could bend.
For example, this year, my husband and I realized that we had never been parents of teenagers before, and we needed help handling conflict as a family. Most of our conflict revolved around simple issues such as chores. They would neglect their chores, and I would nag. We were falling into unhealthy patterns and were unable to resolve conflict. We needed someone to look at our dynamic and point out what we couldn’t see. We decided to try family therapy.
Fighting for control
Even though I believe growth is a process and I must look at myself before pointing the finger, I naively and arrogantly thought, "We'll go to therapy for a few sessions. The therapist will see how I'm doing everything right as a mom and tell my kids all the stuff I've been telling them for years. Then, they will be grateful and apologize profusely for taking me, their wonderful loving mother, for granted." Then, we would live happily ever after with a close-knit relationship.
Here's what really happened: We went to the first session as a family. The therapist spent the bulk of the time asking our girls what grade they would give us as parents and why. One gave me a failing grade, and the other a barely passing grade. The therapist thanked the kids for sharing and informed us that he no longer needed to meet with them but would continue sessions with us, the parents. This was not what I had planned, and it ticked me off. Somehow, I thought I was immune to the realities of relationships. This first session left me surprised, a little dismayed, and still fighting for control.
Fighting for control can look different for us all. When I can't control people around me, I tend to become hyper-vigilant with what I can control. I become a clean freak.
I go down kicking and cleaning
My family knows this about me. One time, when I went on a cleaning rampage, one of my kids asked if I was okay and followed it up with "because you’re cleaning like crazy." As I fight to lean into the discomfort of the unpredictable, I must admit I go down kicking and cleaning.
On this journey of growth in conflict resolution, I am learning about myself as a mother and generally as a person. Because I have always deemed losing control as negative, chaotic, uncivilized, burdensome, and weak, it’s hard for me to let go and allow people to make their own mistakes and learn.
Once I overcame the initial shock that I needed help learning to let go of control, I started looking forward to the sessions. Around this time, I noticed even more conflicts in my life, so I had opportunities to practice my decision to lean into losing control. There have been days I have resorted to trying to control everything that moves, but there are also days I recognize I'm fighting against the truth; I don't have control over others. I hold on to the encouragement of Proverbs 3:5; “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Enjoy my lack of control
In the past six months, I've wrestled with accepting that I've never really had control over people. I've been fighting the wrong battles. Fear cannot drive growth, and losing control is not as reckless as I initially thought; it's been more of a decision to surrender. However, this surrender isn't a failure but an acknowledgment that I can't see the complete picture, and even though I want what's best for my kids, I don't always know what that looks like.
I'm embracing that they each have a journey as they become who God made them to be. I don't want to be a stumbling block but a guide helping them embrace this great adventure. I'm learning to remain calm and enjoy my lack of control.