Every once in a while, I have a little thought giggling in my brain to the effect that if only I had it my way. I don’t have it often, but I try to take it seriously when I do.

My personal history is that it turns out to be a disaster whenever I have everything my way. And, boy, have I had disasters in my life.

I often think of Frank Sinatra’s song, “I Did It My Way.” For the life of me, I do not know what that is all about. Maybe it worked for him, but it hasn’t worked for me, at least not yet. If I did everything my way, I’m sure I would be locked up in jail or an insane asylum by now. I’m not sure which is worse.

Regarding this, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has several PhDs in “Doing It My Way.” If I were smart and not saying I am, I would let her always have it her way.

There is only one place I can have anything my way: my Personal Interior Castle, my office. I sit at my desk; look at my computer, surrounded by thousands of books. In this “safe place,” I can have it my way every day.

Occasionally, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage will come into my Interior Castle and say something to the effect, “Would you like me to do any organizing in here?”

I smile as best I can and respond, “You can organize in here if you permit me to go to your craft room and organize there.” I then chuckle, knowing she would never permit me to enter her craft room, let alone organize anything.

Don’t let this get out, but a couple of times when she’s away, I sneak into her craft room and move things around so she can’t find them when she needs them. When she returns, she will go into her craft room, and I will stand outside to listen and hear her say something to the effect, “Now, where is that? I know it was right here when I left.”

I have to be careful that, you know who, does not hear me chuckling.

She has her space to do her thing her way, and I have my space to do my thing my way, and the twain shall never entangle themselves.

One of my great pleasures is that when she does something her way, and it turns out to be wrong. I have to keep my laughter under control in those circumstances.

We often go across town for appointments, and when we do that, I allow her to take her Sissy Van, and I ride along strap in on the passenger side. Driving across town, she always decides which way to go.

Just recently, we had an appointment across town at some new location. We’d never been there before, so we had to be careful driving to that location.

When we got to a certain traffic light, I told her, “You need to turn right here on this street.”

Looking at me, she said, “I’m driving, and so I know where I’m going. I don’t need any information from you. Sit back and let me do it my way.”

With that, she turned left, and I could hardly hold my laughter because I knew where that street would end up.

Looking at me, she said, “Why are you laughing?”

“I was just thinking of a joke.”

“Oh, yeah. What was that joke?”

I looked at her, and in a moment, I said, “Why was six afraid of seven?”

“I don’t know, why was six afraid of seven?”

“Because,” I said, “seven, eight, nine.”

“So,” she graveled, “that was the joke you were thinking of?”

It wasn’t, but I had to use something to cover up my laughter.

All I had to do was wait, and when we came to the end of this street, we would find out that we were at the wrong end of town. Oh, I love it when a plan comes together.

When she finally realized we were at the wrong end of town, she looked at me, “Don’t you dare say what you’re thinking.”

Then she turned around and headed in the right direction.

My problem is that I caught her doing it her way, and it was the wrong way, and I can’t exploit it. I have to pretend that it didn’t happen. Oh, how I wish I could remind her of this mistake every time we are in the car.

Of course, I know if I do that, there will be heavy consequences on my side to deal with. Sometimes it’s best to keep some things under lock and key. But I do confess there are times while she is driving that I think of that mistake, and I can only smile.

Later that day, I was reminded of what the apostle Paul said. “Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, He taketh the wise in their own craftiness” (1 Corinthians 3:18-19.

My craftiness has never done well for me. I choose to trust God in every situation that is before me. After all, He knows best.