She Gave Up Some of the Best Years of Her Life

A homeschool Mom, having been abandoned by her husband, shared how her oldest daughter came to the rescue in the painful aftermath of going through a divorce. This older daughter helped school the younger ones while the Mom looked for a way to support the family. She made dinners and washed clothes and met whatever needs were waiting to be met.

Flash forward a few years later and the Mom shares how she feels she "owes" the daughter so much. The Mom felt sorry for the daughter, having to stay home at night and read stories to little ones while her friends were out having fun. After all, "she gave up some of the best years of her life" to pitch in and help her family.

And that phrase struck me. How often do we hear others, mostly women, describing how they themselves gave "the best years of their lives" to someone or some life circumstance? My question is, can we, believing in God's sovereign care over us and the wisdom of His providence, ever truly say this, when the "giving up" refers to loving others not just in word but in deed? And what are we teaching our daughters about serving and dying to self when we, even subconsciously, encourage this point of view?

There used to be an honor about helping one's family, whether taking care of a sick parent or working an extra job to help pay the bills. But, we've transitioned so far from that point of view, instead encouraging our children to ignore family circumstances and follow their dreams, dreams which are often simply our own  presenting themselves again to a younger version of us some years later. We didn't follow those dreams the first time, and we sure aren't going to have our children miss out.

We speak from both sides of our mouths, extolling the virtues of staying home and caring for our husbands and children and bearing one another's burdens, yet, secretly wanting something "more" for our daughters. We say "Amen" to the truth that we make our plans but God directs our steps, while we bulldoze ahead with blinders on lest anything or any need distract us from our agenda.

Picture two girls. Both have family situations that require their help, be it an aging relative or a financial crisis or anything else in between. The one goes off to college, earns her degree, and begins working. Her family has to hire outside care or simply do without or rely on other friends to assist them.

The second postpones her plans (or might find that she gives them up completely) and instead spends her days fixing meals and driving to doctor's appointments or earning extra income. She builds muscles by lifting the weaker up or changing sheets for the 5th time that day or teaching Littles their catechism or reading them stories.

Would any of us dare ask this of our daughters? Do we not view the latter girl as wasting her days? Do we not feel sorry for her, pondering that she has so much "potential" and should be hanging out at the coffee shops with girlfriends and listening to lectures on a college campus?

How do we give up the best years of our lives if we're meeting the needs God has set before us, whether we're young ladies or older women? How can dying to self and laying down our lives for others ever be a waste of time or giftings or potential? Why do we assume God doesn't have something else waiting for us if we've had to surrender our plans in order to love one another as He's called us to?

While the Mom I mentioned earlier surely needed to express gratitude to her daughter and praise her for honoring God in those difficult days, she didn't need to feel guilty or think she had robbed her daughter of "the best days." God doesn't design our life circumstances so we can fulfill our dreams and live for ourselves. Instead, He fashions our days to make us more like Christ, and what did Christ tell us but that He came not to be served, but to serve, and give His life for us. He calls us to do the same, and for some of us, the burden may be a bit heavier and more costly, but it will never be a waste of time or our lives.

With love,
Trisha