My Life is Not My Own

Last week my husband noted that after owning our new vehicle for a month, he had yet to program the radio stations into the sound system. I agreed that it was strange, citing how only a few years ago, our agreed upon list of programmed radio stations was pretty high up on our list of priorities in life (sad, isn't it?)

Things went quiet for a moment as we thought back to those days of little responsibility and insignificant preoccupation. When the conversation began again it was to confess that we don't even know any local radio stations - despite the fact that we have lived in this town for 8 months. What's more...we don't even know where any of our personal CD's might be at the moment (and at the rate technology changes, I'm reasonably certain they will be obsolete before we have the chance to locate them again)!!

It is not a sudden lack of musical interest on our part, but a shift in who's in control of the playlist that has brought about this current deficiency of Top 40 savy. Our 6 CD changer isfull...full of Veggie Tales, Little People CD's and Top 100 Sunday School Favourites. We still listen to music alright. We can barely get all the buckles, clips and restraints fastened before we are taking requests for Alice the Camel, Music Machine, or (wait for it....)
Father Abraham.

And to be honest, if we ever have the opportunity NOT to listen to one of these titles, rather than scan the available stations for something more our tase (read:age), lately we opt for silence all together.

It is just another example of how my life is no longer my own. And as I write this I am suddenly realizing that it's more than just the music I listen to.

I no longer determine what time I get up in the morning. This is (unfairly - wouldn't you say?) decided by the youngest person in the family...namely my son. From there on, my daily schedule - although shaped by me - is pretty much centered around the activities, eating and sleeping habits of my children.

Speaking of eating...even restaurant choices are no longer dictated by me. Instead, they are narrowed down to places where noisy children are tolerated, the menu is child friendly (as in chicken fingers and fries, rather than pad thai or lobster bisque), and the prices coincide with our limited budget. Oh, and while we are on the topic, let's talk about that budget. If my husband was here, I'm sure he would eagerly create some kind of "excel spreadsheet/pie graph" that would boldly illustrate for you how much of our monthly spending goes to Yours Truly in relation to the shortest people in the house. Oh yes, I do most of the spending...but a refrigerator full of fresh veggies and a pantry stocked to feed the likes of a TLC "uber-family" do nothing to update my closet or feed my scrapbooking habits. Let's just say my personal slice of the pie is correctly portioned to Weight Watchers standards.

I'm taller, I weigh more, I am more highly educated, and I possess enough wisdom to realize that shoving Kix cereal up my nose will likely end badly. Doesn't this count for something in the hierarchy of controlling interest around here?

You don't need to answer. It was rhetorical - but don't you see my point?

My wardrobe, my hairstyle, my sensible shoes...all of it altered by the presence of children in my life. Truly, my life is not my own.

But you see...it was never really mine to begin with. Oh sure, I thought it was when I was younger and possessed control of the remote and the ability to set my alarm for (gasp!) 10:30am on a lazy Saturday morning, or when my wardrobe contained pants that didn't have greasy fingerprint stains somewhere around knee level. The truth of the matter is, even then...my life has never been my own.

Not since a loving Creator looked down to earth, and decided to make man in His own image. Not since Calvary when it was bought with a steep and devastating price. Not since the day of salvation which restored my righteousness in the sight of a Holy God. I may have had illusions of being the one in control at times...perhaps even wrongly assumed control I had no business assuming, but the bottom line is that my life was not mine to begin with. And in my opinion (and experience), contrary thinking usually leads to nothing more than frustration and futility. Furthermore, releasing this "right" leads to unbelievable freedom!

Once again, my life as a Mom ends up being a microcosm for the spiritual life of a believer, and pushes my thinking deeper than simply the presets on my car radio. I probably wouldn't choose the best stations anyway... so why not listen to a symphony the Author of Melodies Himself wrote for my life?


Yes, my life is no longer my own. And to be honest...I wouldn't have it any other way.

"For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors. And the ransom he paid was not mere gold or silver. He paid for you with the precious lifeblood of Christ, the sinless, spotless Lamb of God...And He did this for you...Now you can have sincere love for each other as brothers and sisters because you were cleansed from your sins when you accepted the truth of the Good News. So see to it that you really do love each other intensely with all your hearts." 1 Peter 1:18-22
"Don't think only about your own affairs, but be interested in others, too, and what they are doing. Your attitude should be the same that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not demand and cling to his rights as God. He made himself nothing; he took the humble position of a slave and appeared in human form..." Philippians 2:4-7