When I was young, one of my life priorities was “My Space.” I defended it with everything I had.
In school, I had to defend “My Space.” Several times, I even had to go to the principal’s office and explain what “My Space” was all about. He didn’t seem to understand, and I had to explain it often.
At home with my siblings, I had to define the parameters of “My Space.” No matter how often I explained it to them, they never seemed to understand what I was discussing.
Recently, I retired from the church and had to move my office. I had close to 10,000 books, so I needed somewhere to put them. So, we added an office to our home. It was a way of establishing “My Space.”
Then something happened to “My Space.”
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, wife Martha, babysits our great granddaughter while our granddaughter is working. We’ve had the little one for about two years now. She’s still a toddler and has more energy than a troop of monkeys at a zoo.
If I had half her energy, I could accomplish a lot. Just watching her go non-stop saps what little energy I have.
In the morning, I like to watch the news before starting the day. Usually halfway through the news, she arrives and immediately enters the living room, jumps on the couch, and says, “Papaw, George.”
I’ve realized when she says that, she wants to watch “Curious George,” the cartoon. Who gave her the right to the TV in “My Space?”
At lunch, Martha has a plate in the refrigerator for me. I’ll come to the kitchen to get it, sit in my chair, and watch the noon news. It’s my time to relax and enjoy lunch.
Most days, just as I’m beginning to eat, the little one visits and helps herself to what she likes on my plate. Being a great grandfather, I can’t say “no.” But who gave her the OK to my lunch in “My Space?”
In any case, “My Space” has been thoroughly violated. I’m beginning to think the only time I’ll restore “My Space” is when they put me in my coffin and drop me in the grave.
Pondering this the other day, I wondered how or if it was possible to regain “My Space.” What must I do to establish the perimeters that will separate me from everybody else?
I remember reading the Psalms verses that support my idea of “My Space.” David said in Psalms:
“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.”
— Psalm 91: 1, 4
If I’m under the “shadow of the Almighty,” nobody can ever compromise my safety. I don’t have to worry about my situation because I’m not defined by that.
I’m defined by my abiding under the shadow. If you can compromise the “Almighty,” then I’ll worry, but not before. Good luck with that.
Dr. Snyder is a former pastor who lives with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, wife Martha, in Ocala, Fla. His email is [email protected].
