Who's Your Daddy?

This was title of the sermon this morning. It's message simple: Who's your daddy? Who's your boss?

Jokingly I tell people the reason I became a teacher was because I liked being "the boss". And is it ever fun! I get to say when things happen, how they happen (well somewhat) and who they happen to. I am in complete control-- they ask ME. When I say jump, they say, "Frog hops or like we're jumping rope?" Being in control is euphoric. Like running. You move your feet one before the other and you breath air in and out. And, you move from one place to another-- you're making it happen. Perhaps that's why I like living by myself. Typically I am a neurotic neat freak and give everything a place. (Tonight, however, I decided to not wash clothes or take out the trash. My actions aren't affecting anyone except Hurley, and he likes dirty clothes.)

We wake up, we put on our faces, we go to work, we go to the grocery store, we go to the gym. We live a life in control. And, it's not until that control is taken away that we realize we're not.

This week I'm going to attempt to not be driven by my own "boss" (and see what happens).