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Control

A strong, metal corral stands 6 ft high, and looking out from behind its bars, there is a horse. He snorts and paws, rears and kicks, and throws up huge clouds of dust. As he screams his anger to the sky, a girl runs out of nowhere, toward the corral. She scales the fence, ropes the horse, and what follows is a battle of wills. The girl is deadly calm, focused, and strong. Soon the horse is under control. She faces the onlookers with arms crossed, adrenaline surging through her body, a smirk on her face. They look back at her... Some admiring her strength, others thinking how crazy she is. A split second later, the horse behind her starts pawing again, and she whirls to face him... Proud of her determination to win this. To prove herself...

Same corral, same horse... This time, the little girl is standing beside a tall old man, his hand is on her shoulder. She watches the horse, the chaos... Then looks at his face. She sees nothing in his eyes that reminds her of the tension she is feeling. She asks, "Aren't you going to do something about that horse?" He says, "Maybe later. Right now he's not hurting anything. The fence is strong. He'll probably calm down on his own."

Which girl are you? I know which one I am... The one that thrives on control. I pick chaos over calm because of something inside me that feeds off of power and being in control. I rush into the corral with the wild horse instead of standing back with God, and letting him decide when and if something needs to happen. You calm, trusting girls, I envy you. Maybe someday I can actually get all the ants out of my pants and be like you, with God's help.

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