A Party with No Balloons

I've reached box number 150 in our inventory of worldly belongings. Packing is overtaking my life but so is self-pity. I'm throwing myself a big ole' party while wrapping breakables and meticulously arranging items from my kitchen cupboards into cardboard. But instead of bringing joy into my life, this party is bringing such sorrow. It has festered within my heart anger at my husband, discontent with the job he has that demands so much of his time and controls so much of our lives. After all, this job is the reason we are moving, right? But is it? Do I not believe in the Sovereign Hand of God on High? Have I not implored my children to view this move through His Sovereignty? If I believe it, I would celebrate that instead of plodding through my pitiful, self-induced get together with the only guest being hateful, angry me.
Yet even as I write this, I am struggling to accept it. To want it. It hurts too much. It makes me acknowledge that I am not in control over my life and it also makes me aware that I am far too spoiled and self-reliant. If I am to accept God's control over my life, I can not blame my husband, the Air Force or all the work I have to do right now for my own sourness. I have to blame myself and be accountable to God for the spoiled rotten daughter that I have become that feels entitled to comfort and ease and getting what I want when I want it.
Oh that my heart would change---Lord, help me accept your Sovereign Hand as good, right and profitable even when I rail against it. Forgive me for my temper tantrum and fill me with your peace, joy and a desire to obey with joy that surprises an onlooking world.
Back to the boxes...not the pity party.