Clash of Control

My sweet husband works hard.  He does not rest.  He is persistent and ambitious and selfless in ways that make me wonder if somehow, I married a super human.  He takes no time for hobbies, except…

Clash of Clans. 

After YEARS of his loyalty to building his… (clan, kingdom, tribe?) whatever it’s called… I have learned to recognize the signs.  Phone turned sideways, half-distracted nods, and the hurry to attack within the allotted time frame.  It is his one and only teeny tiny escape, so when the battles arise, I oblige. 

Love that man. 

But THEN.  Each of our boys have a tablet that we mostly use for educational purposes and occasionally for momma-needs-just-a-little-minute-of-quiet purposes.  Oh ye of infinite patience, cast the first stone!  Anyway, sweet husband recently passed his dedication to Clash of Clans on to our littles.  Our middle son, the thinker and strategist, really bought into the concept of the game the most.  Not to be outdone by his daddy’s years of laboring over building these make-believe assets, he set to work building his own. 

Until he got punished.  It was a rough week in the Cuccio house that ended with all three tablets being confiscated, pulled from the charging station, and relocated to Momma and Daddy’s room until further notice.  Our other two boys were sad, sure.  But our middle?  DEVASTATED.  He was going to lose the kingdom he worked for!  He wouldn’t be able to partake in the attacks at the designated times!  How would this end??  How would he survive??

(We are nothing if not dramatic…)        

For days, I could see the worry grow on his little forehead.  I watched as he tried his best to do everything he thought would earn his coveted technology back.  He helped fold laundry.  He helped clean the kitchen.  He took out the trash.  He watched over his little brother.  He used his very best manners.  He was a saint.  Even still, we stuck to the punishment we had set out in the beginning.  (Parenting is HARD, y’all!)

He just knew that the time that was passing was taking him further and further from all the good he had worked for.  He was convinced his kingdom was collapsing and he would find shambles in its return. 

But there was something he didn’t know, too. 

While the tablet was being held hostage in our bedroom, his daddy had made sure it stayed charged.  And each night, he would sit down with it and work on the kingdom.  He would fight the battles.  He would build the army.  He would gain resources and currency that would ensure that the growth of the clan would remain secure.  And with his daddy’s big picture view, having years under his belt of knowing how to play the game, he was able to build the kingdom up far more than our son in his limited knowledge ever could have. 

He thought he was being punished.  But all the while, his father was working on his behalf and had it all under control.

And I have to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you don’t feel that way sometimes too.  It feels like the rug has been pulled out from beneath you.  It feels like everything you have worked for is slipping away.  It feels like the plan you set out for yourself is now somehow in shambles.  You kick and scream in disappointment, you do your best to earn back what you lost on your own, you wonder how this will all end.

And all the while, in all of your worry and devastation and confusion—when it feels like you’re being punished, there is a God working on your behalf that has it all under control.  He sees the big picture.  He knows the best strategies.  He has access to unlimited resources.  He’s fighting your battles, and He is building things for you that are far better than you ever could have dreamed.  Trust His love for you and hold on… it’s all under control.