Control Freak

Renters are moving into our Oklahoma City house tomorrow afternoon.  I’m desperately trying to be okay with this.  It would be different if we had sold the house because it wouldn’t be ours, but it still is…there are just strangers who are going to be living in it.  It doesn’t help that they’ve already asked for permission to repaint my kitchen because “That color is atrocious.”

I like to be in control.  I like knowing what is happening and when, and I’m not super trusting of other people with my stuff.  That’s why the last few days have driven me up a nearby wall.  We hired a handy man to get the house ready for the renters.  He’s a friend who does all kinds of small odd jobs and we know him well….that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t get to inspect the work before I write the check.  I just have to trust him that the bedrooms are painted, the new dishwasher is in and working, the carpets are clean and that everything is in peak condition. 

I keep reminding myself to just breathe.  It will be fine.  This is his job and why we hired him.  My poor pregnant body doesn’t do well after 3 1/2 hours in the car, so driving that twice in one day would leave me prostrate for days afterward.  We hired him so I wouldn’t have to worry.  The poor guy has been answering my pestering text messages for 2 days now.  “How’s it going? Is the paint the right color? Does the dishwasher fit? Did you get the stain out of the carpet in the hallway?” and so on.  He’s patient and understanding that I need some sort of death grip on things for my own sanity.  I think he’s going straight to Heaven on the merit of being patient with super-controlling pregnant women.

The new people move in tomorrow and it will all be done or not.  They’ve lost everything they own in the recent tornadoes and are happy just to have a place to live.  I’m happy that they’ve found a haven, but freaked out for me.  God is teaching me lessons in letting go and trust.  I hate it when He does that.