Perspiration drenched my body as I willed the churning of my stomach to cease. After 10 hours of exercise in 100°F heat, surely there could be nothing left in my stomach. I sat quietly on the end of a log away from the rest of my AFM team who were busy placing our supper packets in the fire. I couldn’t let the team down! I couldn’t get sick when the crucible weekend had barely begun.

My husband came over and sat beside me. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“Not too well,” I responded. “My stomach feels upset.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

My response was lost as I wretched. Amazing! There was still more than water in there. Maybe now things would settle.

I returned to my log, again willing quiet to the storm within. I must not fail to be in control! But I had to recognize that, at this point, I was not in control of anything. My husband held me as I repeatedly emptied my stomach. When things had subsided, he helped me over to my sleeping place. I had no strength left to argue. I had obviously failed. I was no longer in control.

As I lay there on the hard sand lamenting my failure, a soft voice seemed to whisper to me, “I am in control. I will take care of everything as long as you will allow me.”

Dear Father, how long You have tried to teach me this lesson, and I have not internalized it! Please help me remember that it is only in allowing You to control my life and circumstances that I can truly succeed. Help me share this message with others so that the peace You have promised can be a reality within them, too.

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